Goofy Nativity

I promise I'm almost done posting about Christmas, but I stumbled across this outside a church last night and realized I must share.

It's a picture of baby Jesus cradled by the Island Formosa. He is balanced on top of the Central Mountain Range, to be precise.

According to the accompanying reader board, the 150 is for the fact Jesus first came to Formosa 150 years ago (first missionaries?).

Buxiban Christmas

More Pictures: Taiwan Christmas

The Christmas Eve show at my afternoon school was wholly successful, replete with songs, skits and darling little English speeches. After the show we took the kids Christmas caroling at the 7-11 across the street and at a nearby restaurant.

On Christmas morning the kids at the kindergarten were doing a dress rehearsal for their Christmas play.

Here are some pictures from both days. James took a little video at the Christmas show, and if it proves hilarious enough I may post it this weekend.

Santa Comes to Nankan

After a long day at the buxiban (which I will post about tomorrow), James and I had a quiet Christmas Eve at home. We sat beside our apartment's only greenery, our baby cacti garden, and exchanged presents.

in lieu of a tree

I gave James a leather wallet, but he had dig through a goody bag filled with Western foods to find it.

From Taiwan Christmas

Brats and processed cheese: A pretty good Christmas gift, if I do say so myself

He gave me a bling pair of earrings, but my left hole has closed up again. I jammed wildly at my earlobe for a few minutes until James called me off, "Quit it! It's okay! Maybe you can just wear one - like a sailor!" Guess I'll have to go under the piercing gun a third time.

We started watching A Christmas Story, but I fell asleep, and at midnight we split a pomegranate before hitting the hay.

"This will be the first year I don't get any presents from Santa Claus," I remarked before passing out, maybe an insy teensy winsy bit sad for it.

But when I awoke...

Presents from Santa!

I found some milk and cookie crumbs by our baby cacti.

Santa brought me a giant "Glamorous Banana!" Lucky girl!

Santa gave me a big cushy stuffed banana with a red sticker that says "Glamorous Banana." Santa must be very attune to my affinity for adorable things that are yellow. He also gave me Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential, which I plan on starting as soon as I'm finished with Burmese Days by George Orwell.

I think I must've been much better than James this year. Santa wrote "You've been a very good girl," on one of my two presents. James only got one present from Santa, The Stand by Stephen King, and his note said, "Dear James, Read a f---ing book."

Merry Christmas family, friends, and internet. I hope that are you spending it with people you love, wherever you may be.

Christmas Itinerary

Wednesday, December 24th:

8 a.m. Get on bus, schlep together next week's lesson plan for after-class teacher meeting.

10 - 11:30 a.m. Teach preschool. Push Vancouver down very steep staircase, tell her to enjoy her Christmas Day off at Far Eastern Hospital, one short metro stop away from school

11:30 a.m. - 2 p.m. Teacher Meeting, Run errands in Taipei

4 p.m. - 5:30p.m. Christmas show final rehearsal

5:30 p.m - 6 p.m. Eat lunchbox dinner with bosses and brats

6p.m. - 6:30 p.m. Don tarty Christmas costume, apply black noses to reindeer children

6:30p.m. - 8 p.m. Host Christmas show

8 p.m. Go home. Drink hot chocolate with lots of Baileys. Watch A Christmas Story.

Thursday, December 25th

8 a.m. Get on bus

10 a.m. - 11:30 a.m. Work. Try not to be a grinch.

5 p.m. - 6 p.m. Work

6 p.m. Go to all-you-can-eat barbecue near apartment


Friday, December 26th

8 a.m. Sleep in!

1 p.m. Get on bus

2 p.m. - 4 p.m. Teach Satan's spawn, ages 8 and 9

4:30 p.m. - 6:30 p.m. Teach sullen tweenage girls + one teenage boy who thinks he's reeeeeally funny.

7 p.m. - 9 p.m. Teach well-behaved teenagers.


Saturday, December 27th

8 a.m. - 6 p.m. Who cares?

6 p.m. Go to Ruth's Chris Steakhouse in Taipei, James' treat. YES!

I get steak on Saturday, so that makes it all worth it. And unless I become a cop, a medical professional, a waitress, or a fireman - I will probably never have to work on Christmas again! I don't have a lot of concrete life plans at the moment, but I bet with a little forethought I can avoid all of those professions.

On the offhand I do wind up working another Christmas, it's highly unlikely wearing a furry red tube dress will ever again be part of the package.

Christmas, Buxiban Style

Me with my oldest students. From Taiwan Christmas

The buxiban (cram school) James and I work at had its Christmas show Saturday night. It was essentially a variety show - tangentially involved with Christmas - with an ample dose of techno dance numbers, one of which we participated in.


My favorite skit was a Harry Potter play one of the Chinese teachers wrote. In the play Voldemort offers Harry a Christmas gift but first Potter must gather three magic balls for he-who-shall-not-be-named. To do so, Harry time travels to meet Beethoven, George Washington and a Snake (don't think about it too hard).

Washington learns he will be the first president of the USA. Celebratory chest thump. So thug.

In the end, Voldemort is foiled. And I think my students achieved a new milestone for incoherent fan fiction writing.

James and I gave a joint speech. He wrote it two weeks ago and I didn't look at it until the day of the performance.

"Hey, you gave me all the long lines!" I complained.

"No, I gave you all the good lines."

What James wrote for me: "Every year my family goes to the forest and cuts down a nice big Christmas tree. Then we take it home and decorate it with ornaments and pelts."

Once on the stage, I couldn't bring myself to tell dozens of Chinese families I come from a family of lumberjacks that tosses around ermine skins when it feels festive - though I appreciate James' humor - so I recited something closer to the truth.

On Sunday evening we went to the Christmas service outside Grace Baptist.

From Taiwan Christmas

The service was more of a sales pitch than a celebration of Christmas, but I guess that was the point since they seated us outside on the porch so that passersby could stop and watch.

During the service the pastor talked about Karla Faye Tucker who became a Christian in prison after murdering someone with a pickax. The reason he chose Mrs. Tucker instead of Jeffrey Dahmer, David Berkowitz, or Manson family member Susan Atkins escaped me. I mean, when you get busted for a despicable violent crime - isn't finding God just part of the bag? I hate to complain, but I really didn't need any pickax in conjunction with my baby Jesus during Christmas.

I have yet another Buxiban Christmas Show on Christmas Eve.

"Leslie, can you dress up on Wednesday?" my boss asked today.

"Sure!" I said. I was already planning on wearing a red skirt and a white cardigan with rhinestone buttons. Festive, no?

"Can you wear a dress?"

"Yeah. no problem."

"How about a - umm - Mrs. Claus dress?"

My boss then produced a furry red tube dress with a heart shaped neckline. The thing comes with a mini cape and white faux fur wristlets.

"I'll wear it, but the parents are going to think your English teacher is crazy," I said. Boss laughed good naturedly. What I really meant was, "I'll wear it, but the parents are going to think your English teacher is a strumpet."

I hereby retract all jokes I ever made about being overpaid here. Pictures to follow.

Getting My Christmas On

The present was just a prop, I didn't get to keep it.

Last night James and I went to the Foreign Correspondents Club Christmas party at the Cesear Park Hotel in downtown Taipei, swanky!

I thought admission would be $900NT ($30 U.S.) for us as a couple, but that was actually the cost per ticket. I wondered if the woman stamping hands could see my soul dying as I thought about all the Christmas cards I still have to air mail, and the presents I still need to buy, not to mention groceries for the rest of the month...

But I soon forget my fiscal woes when we stepped inside and saw the buffet table: cesear salad, smoked salmon, a cheese platter filled with brie and Muenster, glazed ham, roast beef, turkey. Being able to eat meat that comes in big juicy slabs was definitely worth the entrance fee. Plus, for dessert there were cakes and pies as well as four six-gallon tubs of Haagen-Dazs ice cream. Haagen-Dazs is really expensive here. The amount of ice cream I ate made my ticket price a steal.

We were seated with a family of four Australians, a guy from Oklahoma, a "Russian of Georgian decent," and one regular Russian. When I told the Russian gentleman seated beside me I was from Alaska he said, "Ah, so that means you are Russian, since Alaska was once part of Russia."

"Umm, well no - my family is actually fourth-generation Finnish immigrants on my mother's side."

"Ah, Finland." He said - kind of like he meant 'well, that's close enough.'

I'm not usually one of those white Americans who rattles off six different European ethnicities in divisions of 16ths and 32nds. I'm just American. That's it. Although I do pay homage to the delicious braided sweet bread my family makes during the holidays - supposedly that comes from the old country.

My Russian friend told me he had a layover once in Anchorage on his way to New York.

"Yes, Anchorage is a big transit hub." I said. I thought about adding "more so before the Cold War ended" but I didn't know if that was socially appropriate. I guess it probably would've been fine as long as I didn't say it like "more so before we won the Cold War and you lost ... Losers!"

Later he told me he'd been a member of the Young Communist League, as was required, when it was still the Soviet Union. Then he moved to Taiwan and wrote for the "Anti-Communist League for National Salvation." Quite the ideological swing.

There were raffle drawings. Since it's a club for journalists - the prizes were mostly memory storage devices, air tickets, and booze. There were four winners at our table, but James and I weren't among them.

Kids help the band with the jingle bells.

Between drawings, there was a jazz trio. I was having such a good time, I even enjoyed their rendition of Jingle Bell Rock - my very least favorite of my least favorite Christmas songs (followed closely by Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree, and plain old Jingle Bells).

In short, it was a fabulous evening. mmm, chocolate ice cream. mmm, roast beef.

Merry Black Friday

I'm going to bypass Thanksgiving greetings since I missed out on the family and feasting this year. The highlights of my T-day were photographing an Asian Nazi and making a double cheeseburger run after work.

I feel like an evil mucous demon has taken up residence in my head and chest. And after a full day of teaching, I've completely lost my voice. My Canadian co-worker told me I can expect to feel approximately the same for the rest of the year since I have no immunities to Taiwanese bugs as of yet.

Despite my Turkey Day humbugging, I would like to ring in the most wonderful time of the year: shopping season.

And I will do so with the following which I found while hunting for kiddie carols. I dare you to find a YouTube Christmas video that matches its greatness.


I have watched this several times a week since I found it. I hope you will come to love and cherish it as I have.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

Back home the flag may drop the day after Thanksgiving, but here in Taiwan my Christmas season began last week.

Christmas is important, not because there are so many Christians in Taiwan, though there are plenty. Christmas is a choice time for bushibans, mine included, to show parents all the beautiful English their children are learning. There will be a few carols, some recitation - pretty much it's a huge marketing event to attract and retain students. That's why we've already started preparing.

There's a scene in A Christmas Story. The family goes to a Chinese restaurant on Christmas Day, and the waiters sing "Deck the Halls with Boughs of Holly, fa ra ra ra raaaaaah." That's my classroom. Every day. For the next month and a half.

Today I got on YouTube looking for carols to teach one of my classes. It was surprisingly hard to find good versions kids could sing along with. Bruce Springsteen and Charlotte Church renditions wont cut it for the ten-year-old set.

I did find a version of The First Noel on YouTube with a Sims video-captured nativity sequence. Who does that?

I was searching for a version of "Do You Hear What I Hear," one of my favorites
when I found the real gem, this Christmas atrocity:

The hair! The stellar background! That green body suit! I felt a little bad about savaging this video after I read the information. Supposedly Richard Carpenter made it after his sister's death. So she wasn't around to defend herself, poor thing. But it was too amazing not to share.