Is Cartagena on your list of destinations? 

It was a corner of South America I’ve heard in songs and read about in wedding guides. My vision of Cartagena had been a fabulous one, but as so happens with many radiant corners and pockets of the world, my mind couples places into categories of “unique must see’s”, and “would go if I had an excuse.” A wedding invitation was my excuse, but after arriving I was ashamed of my misconception. It was a gem, distinguished and unmatched.

Online reviews – meh.

I took a sizeable chunk of time planning for the extended weekend but wasn’t completely sold on the content I was finding in travel reviews. For example, I pulled some information from the New York Times article on Cartagena. I added some of their notes to my itinerary but had second opinions once I arrived. Firstly, these “horse-powered taxis” they recommend for getting around the city are a terrible idea. The streets are so small that going anywhere in a carriage is chaos. More so, it’s easy enough to tell that the horses are starved. One young and skeletal horse tripped and fell on the cobblestone streets while carrying a carriage crammed of 8 people. Even the locals were screaming at the driver to feed him. Instead, the driver pulled the horse back on all fours and continued, all in the name of pesos.

The other problem I had was that the author of the NYT article stayed at the Santa Clara Sofitel, and then recommended a restaurant less than a block away. Did you get out much? I must be fair and admit that I tried the restaurant, El Santisimo. I have nothing but good things to say. The food was eclectic and inspiring. The desserts were all sorts of culinary artistry, and as delicious as they were intricately designed. You also can’t beat the two hour “all you can drink” when you agree to a fixed menu for 75,000 pesos (~USD35).

In terms of hotels, most reviews on-line were pointing to the Santa Clara. Well, it’s spectacular, indeed, but similar to every Sofitel you’ll find around the globe. There are several boutique hotels throughout the old city that allow you to feel further integrated into the culture of Cartagena. If you’re willing to pay as much as you would for Santa Clara, stay at Casa Pestagua instead, or it’s sister hotel Casa Pombo (which are more like apartments than rooms) for around 600,000 pesos a night (~USD300). The wedding party stayed at Pestagua, and you can get a small glimpse here of the enchanting, castle-like feel of both of the hotels. The rooms are massive with ancient interiors but captured some modern styles. The court areas feel like your own private oasis.

Casa Pestagua:

Casa Pombo:

We stayed at Casa Pombo, after spending Thursday night  at Hotel San Martin in Boca Grande. USD85 seemed like a great deal. But my advice after staying there- Cartagena’s beaches in Boca Grande are not white, sandy and tropical. Find a hotel in the old city because that is the most enchanting part of Cartagena. Boca Grande had a hustle similar to Bangkok. The buzz and honks of the cars, the dust coming in from the small strip of beach and the constant stream of vendors made things feel naturally stressful.

Everything about Casa Pombo was serene. We felt like Kings and Queens. We had a door master, Pedro, who had such a warm and inviting attitude and helped us with everything. Breakfast was served whenever we decided to wake up. Fresh orange juice, papaya, mango, watermelon, cantaloupe and coffee started us off. Then eggs, ham, feta cheese, bread and butter, jam…. Breakfast heaven, I tell you!

Can you find the mushroom? What about Christopher Columbus? What about a Jaguar emblem/part? Buddha?  Turtle? Tin Tin?

The opposite wall includes a (fake) elephant head over the TV, a Rhino statue under a glass table, a Nutcracker, a sailboat, an abstract painting… What an interesting place to be living.

Lately I’ve been in a quirky mood. I’ve been moving my furniture around, eating one too many blueberry bagels with butter from Crumbs and Coffee, and missing warmer weather. I’ve realized that there are a lot of special moments I haven’t caught up on in my blog, and perhaps my lack of writing has also made me restless.

In May of this year I ventured back to my roots, and missed the opportunity to write about Spain. Despite my unforgivable tardiness, I’d like to offer photographs of Madrid and San Sebastian to you, for eye candy and inspiration. It was another glorious two weeks of Spain, where I celebrated my college graduation and revisited old dear friends. I revisited Barcelona for the third time with my beloved Daniela Reyes, watched several sunsets, uncorked many wine bottles, felt the beach sand of San Sebastian in my fingers and toes, and even took a train ride into southern France for a long stroll down the Andalle southern beach.

It was all surreal, really.  Everything was so unchanged, and yet here I was, so different. My largest fear leaving Madrid was that I would return to Spain and it would be a completely new place. It would have already forgotten me. The truth was, I was different. I had evolved. Madrid was still the same, and I was a new person. To look inward like this, and see your new reaction to things that were once so puzzling is a feeling I cannot explain. The only thing left to be the same in Madrid was my solidarity, walking on foot through the same streets I had come to love. I understood Madrid in a new way, but to this day am not so sure if I answered all of my lingering questions or unfulfilled memories there. I’m not so sure if I ever knew what those lingering questions or unfulfilled memories even were.

To sum it up, my most favorite parts of Madrid were: seeing old friends (my Spanish was rusty though! Eesh!), sneaking my way into Madrid’s Senate Chamber, and making big pasta meals with strangers in the hostel. My curling iron died here, however. RIP my sacred hair miracle worker…you have already been replaced, but I will miss you.

San Sebastian was a relief from my mixed feelings of Madrid. There is something about the ocean there and the tiny mountain bumps popping out of the water that enchanted me. I stayed in the warmest Hostel- Olga’s Place, and felt right at home. The beach was only a block away and Olga herself was a dear sweetheart. I met a few Australian guys that made me laugh endlessly. They were a bit younger than me, with an energy so addictive you couldn’t say no. The nights were carefree and hilarious. One evening we decided to race up el Monumento al Sagrado Corazon to catch the sunset over the ocean. We had all found straw hats in Olga’s house and each carried a bottle of wine on the way. Dan had spotted a large rock wall with small divots up the side and shouted, “AW MAN, it would be so Aussie to climb this rock right now,” instigating his inner native stereotype. After a failed attempt, it ended in erupting laughter. The night ended with a crowded Tapas bar full of locals and fresh seafood. 10 euros in and I could no longer breathe.  I can honestly say I went Pintxo delirious in San Sebastian!

After San Sab, it was off to another familiar city.

Although I had been to Barcelona twice before, this was the first time I had ever actually done the tourist thing. I made sure to see everything. The last two times I traveled here were weekend trips and to visit a good friend, whom wanted to share with me the local side of Barcelona. I didn’t mind, but it was time to see some tourist glitter. Unfortunately, I don’t have photos of this. My camera died in San Sebastian, and like a very unprepared traveler, I forgot my camera battery.

My favorite moments in bcn:

1. Going to La Champagneria: You are only allowed to order una botella de cava here. Something like 3 or 5 euros buys you an entire bottle of pink champagne and two tapas. However, these aren’t like usual tapas. These are enormous sandwiches full of meat and peppers, enough to fill you whole. It is a local scene, and there we met the craziest Catalans that I’ve ever talked to. After about 3 or four bottles of champagne we almost burst. It was time to lay down.

2. Beach with Daniela: This girlfriend of mine will keep me laughing for hours. We met a man selling temporary tattoos and Daniela, being the most convincing woman I’ve ever known, persuaded the man to give us all free tattoos, and let us even give HIM a tattoo (which were her initials on his wrists, turning out to be two tipsy black blobs of ink). After telling us it was free he insisted that we pay for them, and by that time we were all entirely too confused so I just gave him whatever I had in my pocket.

3. Random Absinthe bar: After bouncing around to a few different places one night, Daniela remembered a random Absinthe bar in El Raval. “Here it is,” she said, as we walked up to a deserted metal pull down door. I thought to myself, what on earth? It’s obviously closed. She is trying to pull up a roller door…. Well, as the steel door rolled up, there sat a bright a lively bar, full of gente and tables, paintings and golden chandeliers. This bar was hands down the most obscure place I have ever been to in bcn. I believe it is Bar Marsella. Many websites say its been open since 1820 and gents like Picasso, Gaudi, Dali and Hemmingway have frequented there. One absinthe drink and the night was also over for me…

So, onward to some more photographs?

If you’re in Taiwan and want to learn more on the Aboriginal culture, go do some weekend trips. But, if there’s no time and you still have an itch to read and see worthwhile Aboriginal culture, head to Academia Sinica, on the end of the Blue line in Nankang or the Muzha Brown line.

Here are some of the cool artifacts that you can lay your eyes upon. I particularly love the Buddha sculptures. They are all different forms of Buddha gods that represent various personalities and character traits. I.e., god of curiosity, the scholar, the god of courage, the god of celebration.. etc. Those might not be the same one portrayed here but they still fascinated me!

Boracay was not an easy place to travel to, but rightfully so because only the extremely willing should ever make it. You must fly to Manila, The Philippines, and take a connecting flight on a smaller rickety plane to Kalibo Airport (which you will see in the photo gallery), a small and very humble establishment. After passing through the tiny baggage claim, we found the sign for “Boracay Resort” outside and all hopped into small vans that drove us 90 minutes down the countryside to a ferry station. The countryside moved through my window in blurs of greens and blues, from mountains to grasslands, to cliffs that beamed over ocean waves.. Our small bus barely had enough traction for the tiny roads hugging the gorges. We were in forests, passed schools of children running along the streets, and dodged “SLOW DOWN” fences for speed bumps that barricaded and obstructed long straight roads. The way back was worse for me. Our driver was on a speed chase and I am that annoying backseat driver, so I was buried in sweat and panic for hours. Nevertheless, I resorted to distracting myself with the rush of rainbows that escaped my window. The beauty of nature was so untouched here. It brightened my spirits, but also filled me with melancholic sadness for the rest of our world.

From the ferry station, a small, bright yellow, spider-like boat with balancing legs motored us across the calm waters to the island of Boracay. From the ferry station on the island, we took another small tuk-tuk-like van with all of our luggage strapped on top, 15 minutes until the hotel. We stayed in a hospitable 2bd. suite with a capacity of 9 people for 4 days. USD 60 per person for the entire weekend.

The hotel was a 1 min walk from pure sand and ocean water. Along the shore was a row of shops, restaurants, smoothie joints, spas, and cafes. Every day we moseyed out of bed, grabbed the necessary towel and lotion, and hit the beach with mango smoothies in hand for breakfast. The cuisines were various and plentiful. By sunset, the restaurants set up their territories on the beach for dining. The candles were illuminated, the colors, the “Christmas” decorations! Everything was a step into wonderland. The beach strip was so small that no one worried about finding others; a short walk down the right or left would find you at a table of 15, happy houring and dancing. The red caper was a delicious local steal, and the lobsters were speckled and plump. The drink specials usually involved a two for one deal, so the cost could be split between two people. about 2.50USD for pina coladas and sweet mixed drinks. Everything else was about 2 dollars.

Nights consistently made history. Great music, warm weather, and carefree attitudes made the weekend such a success. We went to a gorgeous vacation house on the other side of the island the first night for a party, rented by other students from Taipei.. Our eyes were so stuffed with beauty and the party was a royal blast. Endless drinks and great people made the night, until I jumped in the pool with my dress on. I was quite cold afterwards so I headed home early. Regardless, life was simple, easy and enjoyable. Other nights included a live cover band on the beach which entailed lots of hott dancing with our feet kicking up sand, drinks galore, plenty of bar hopping, and late night star gazing.

This was a wonderland, paradise, and surreal. But it seems there is always a gilded surface to everything.

3 blocks into the island was Boracay, an island of great poverty, like many areas of the Philippines. I have to make sure I include this in my blog, because one should remember that fantasy land is indeed a fantasy and that the locals feed off of the tourism because it might be their only opportunity to feed their families. Women, men, and children trucked up and down the strip on the beach, beseeching travelers to buy sunglasses, pearl necklaces, other jewelry, sarongs, fruit—all at an alarming value next to nothing… My economic rationale was squandered. What are the marginal costs of these goods and how are there profits? Then it became clear to me. With the division of the markets, it was clear that the value I associated with these goods was a pure act of arbitrage. My humanitarian rationale conduced that this wasn’t by any means “fair” or sustainable economic development for the Filipinos. Over the last four years I’ve found that this happens everywhere in Asia. It happens a lot.

Women walked with fruit baskets on their heads in the blazes of heat, willing to cut fresh fruit for sunbathers. Others offered massages, and 6 year old children were begging tourists to buy conch sells. There was a lot of pain in the eyes of the local, sometimes to where I was guilty for loving the mirage of paradise. Young girls, age 8, were already looking after children and carrying babies. Their lives were devoted to surviving. Yes, they lived on a beautiful beach full of sunsets and wonder and beauty, but they may know nothing of really enjoying it because they are born by chance into inherited poverty and limited resources. Boracay for any outsider is a dream, a heaven.. But do not come here and have no respect for the locals who would give anything to be in your position. Behind the tall walls built around the resorts are shacks. Plain metal scrap sheets constructed as a roof and twined sticks for walls. There is one area on the beach that cannot be accessed by tourists because some had been shot there before. Anger, hopelessness, poverty. The contrast itself was the most unreal aspect of the entire vacation.

Boracay made my heart sing. I tried to remember that my time will come when I can do more for the world other than what I can do in my youth as a current jobless student abroad. Just because I am born in a blessed situation doesn’t mean that I should be giving it all up, just like it doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t help those who weren’t given anything. There is a moderation to life, but when Boracay made my heart sing, it sang in many ways. Those of utter bliss and for more passion. I was not blinded or unaffected from the poverty, nor did I let the pains of  a dual reality distract me from enjoying the weekend. I was sitting in the most astonishing place I have ever seen in my life for many reasons. I was soaking up everything and loving the world with all of my heart.

There need not be more to life in that moment; my heart would have exploded.

Here are photos. I think that they speak for themselves. It was a pleasure taking them, the colors of the world make life so rich!

Click on the photos if you want to enlarge.

I haven’t written a quality blog entry in quite some time now. There’s no excuse other than sheer apathy. Not the writing, of course, but I hadn’t taken the photos of Green Island to get developed until two days ago. Like an idiot I forgot my baby G10 in Taipei and arrived in Taitung in deep panic with chest pains. The agony. The desolate feeling. The thunder roll. The lightning strike of condemnation. Without a camera and memory card I feel naked. So I whipped out my pencil and notebook and did it the 19th Century way. Here are the pages. If you can’t read the pitiful slop I dare call handwriting, here is a typed text of what I deciphered of my own words.

Picture 1:

11. Wednesday morning 2009. Got into Taitung @ 6:15. Stocked up on rice triangles, waters, a latte @7-11. The air is so smoothe and fresh out here. The sunrise is just now working it’s ways over a massive blue cloud, the last remains of nightfall. The edge of the cloud has a gold pated rim….Getting brighter now.

The stray dogs @ the train station still make me feel like I’m in Homeward Bound.

Alright, alright. So this entry happened as soon as we arrived to Taitung (the boyfriend and I), while we were waiting for a taxi with my name on it to pull into the station and drive us down to the ferry harbor.

So, the ferry….. Here are the Green Island notes I wrote down after the trip, to demonstrate the means of getting to Green Island, take note on the disturbingly entertaining ferry ride.

Green Island Notes.

You know, I think the train part is pretty clear. You all can read that.

Skip to part 2.

2. Ferry:

Take a taxi out of the train station around 8am (you will get there @6:30, take it easy, have a coffee). At 8 go to the harbor and buy a ticket. Board the ferry-make sure you go to the top level. Many people puke because of the ferry motion to the island. If you have a weak stomach, take motion sickness pills. In general, stay on the top level and if you can, bring a sweater and stay outside. It helps. Lasts 1 Hr.

I swear, it was only 9 something in the morning and I saw noodless, peas, unidentifiable meat, corn, and orange chunks all over the ferry floor. Be strong.

The first signs of land will have your stomach lurching but surely squinting out tears of joy. Our first impression of Green Island was, “Wow. I think if we played world hide-and-go-seek we would surely NEVER be found.” It was green, naturally, and excessively remote. Green Island consisted of 1  dense street, and one road that wrapped the island. Off these roads were a few restaurant joints, scattered scooters and temples, an old prison that I hear is still sometimes used, a natural salt water hot spring (euphoric, seriously), a scuba and snorkeling hot spot, and of course, one 7-11, and 1 Family Mart.

Oh, let’s not miss anything. Did you know there is a deer park (no not the water) on this island? And did you also know that I saw deer chained with collars around them for pets? I’m sorry I have to say this but…what the hell? Sigh….Whenever I find something as absurd to my mind like an actual bambi for a pet, I repeat this line, “It’s not weird it’s just different, it’s not weird it’s just different, it’s not weird it’s just…”

Regardless, the island was quaint. Honestly, after snorkeling and hot springs, we just cruised the island. There was a great looking light house, but if you’re someone who needs constant discovery, plan this trip for two nights max. I really enjoyed the feeling of simplicity there. It cleared the mind of pesky thoughts and insignificant daily ish. Take a couple days off, reflect, and see where your head is afterwards. In Taipei I feel like an ant in the middle of a sand dune, but here I feel like an elephant in a DC Adams Morgan zoo cage… You know what I mean. The island is large enough in size but the options run thin after the first night. And, I think that since I went on the off season, this is why most places shut down at 19:30.

BUT SHASHHHHIMI. Holy Jesus Mary and Joseph if it’s one thing I’ll remember, it was the fish. They had the most glorious tasting shashimi I have ever laid taste buds upon. Tender, juicy, cold, fresh, packed with flavor. And so cheap! 150NTD for a feast of shashimi, what? Delicious. Do not turn down.

The snorkeling was also an impeccable experience. The rainbow whirls and shines of sea life were unsurpassable. The coral was all worlds of magnificent.I swear to you, underwater life is fascinating and sublime.  For an hour I was engulfed in hundreds of species, shapes and colors. It was the epitome of understanding why we should follow our curiosity to seek new places. In this I mean we must not forget that the depths of the ocean are also worlds we cannot go through life without discovering!

Green Island was a serene success. With good company and like minds, Green Island is a place that forgives you of a city hustle and comforts you with a breeze and ocean.

Here are some other notes I wrote about the place we stayed, a juice joint I loved (particularly the owner, she was so hospitable and curious about us), some restaurants, etc. It’s rough writing but rewriting it might be a waste of time and space. If you have further questions about my chicken scratch you can always ask.

Below these are more Green Island photos I thankfully got to CD so I could upload them here. The quality is realllllly Bush league considering it was a disposable, but at least you have some visuals.

Behold!

Dragon Fruit is lush, seeded, slightly crunchy and perhaps the goddess of forbidden fruit deliciousness. It is not a strikingly strong taste–much like the flavor of kiwi but not as soft or tart. It can be scooped out of it’s pink outer shell or cut into pieces for snacking.

Here’s some other healthy info I found about it on the internet:

Vitamin C

1. Dragon fruit is a fabulous source of vitamin C, with just 100 grams of dried dragon fruit or one piece of fresh fruit fulfilling almost 50 percent of the U.S. Food and Drug Administration‘s recommended daily intake. Vitamin C is an important immune system support and can even help to shorten the duration and severity of the common cold.

Antioxidants

2. Dragon fruit is packed full of antioxidants, which work to protect the body’s cells from damage caused by free radicals that can speed aging and even form cancerous tissues.

Fiber

3. For those trying to increase their daily fiber intake, dragon fruit can be a sweet alternative. About half of a large dragon fruit, or 100 grams, can contain up to 1 gram of fiber, while each 100 grams of dried fruit can have more than 10 grams of fiber.

Fat and Cholesterol

4. Dragon fruit contains numerous tiny, edible seeds, which means it does have some fat. Because the black seeds are so small, removal from the pulpy flesh of the fruit is difficult and requires straining. The majority of fat found in dragon fruit is monounsaturated fat, which generally is considered a healthier form of fat. While many people working to lower cholesterol are concerned about seeds and nuts, dragon fruit can be added to a healthy diet without concern of affecting cholesterol levels.

For more,click here.

Today, the lovely roommates and I took a long walk, landing ourselves at the versatile Taipei 101 food court. Out of the several options, we chose Indian curry dishes and Kimchi soup. Great!

In Taipei 101, amassing the world’s tallest building and the country’s most expensive shopping center, sat a poorly dressed, manner-lacking family eating McDonald’s. For 5 people they took over a table of 8, chomped their super sized burgers and fries with gaping mouths, slurped and chewed at the same time, got up and moved around, giving the whole food court an accurate display of sweat pant wedgies… They were all covered in neon sweats 3 times too small (at the least), with sneakers that looked a decade old, slumped, hunched, and gobbling up the most infamous garbage for food in the world. They were also American.

Then, to top it off, they picked up their DOG, and placed it on the TABLE, to drink out of a FOOD COURT bowl (Mind you this is a Shopping Mall), that will soon be reused by a human being. After the poor, doomed, puppy drank enough, they picked him up by his collar around his neck, shook him around, and tossed him to one another for entertainment. There are no english words for this nightmare of a scene that I have to describe this poor dog’s misery.

I am on the verge of anguish. I am very proud to be an American, as everyone should be of the land they call home. I have had the opportunity to experience many things my country has to offer and I am extremely thankful. I also love to see the world, take advantage of my youth, my energy, and my mind. I want to feel more and write more and I want to demonstrate to the world that no, Americans do NOT spend all their days eating fast food, watching TV, spoiling their children, speaking one language, knowing nothing of geography, or culture, or never giving one or two or three shits about the rest of the world. (This was not my own assumed brutal perception of the American stereotype but it is common. Many people from other countries have told me so.)

I am tired of the ignorance of stereotyping anyone, on either side. So tired.

I am very sick of an American reputation stained in the grease of McDonald’s (*In Spain, MCD’s advertisements call themselves “The flavor of the West!”) and the pains of ignorance. When I see an American family looking like this in another country, even just committing the act of tossing around an actual animal in public, I feel ruined inside, like my efforts to have the world see Americans abroad the right way just suffered another blow. This is not and never will be what America means to me.

Maybe I am taking this too far. Maybe they just got off of the plane and needed a quick bite to eat. Maybe I should just laugh and march on. Well I did, but my heart still sinks. No one is overly burdened with a national stereotype because they are who they are as a person and not a category. But in general, think of it this way. What if you had a rude and impulsive friend that didn’t care a thing for anyone else around them? Would you like to be associated with them? You would soon get labeled as “the friend of THAT guy,” and then you’d feel the need to defend your friendship to everyone you met that knew them. It’s possible to do it, but it’s exhausting. An every time he insulted someone you knew, what do you do? Throw up your hands and say, “I’m not like that I swear!” …?

Today, this was my American Dilemma.

http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/feat/archives/2009/11/19/2003458800

I, myself, will most likely be strolling into the Grand Hyatt buffet, because any Thanksgiving is no Thanksgiving if you can’t eat your heart out endlessly, burying your snout in piles of turkey, gravy, cran sauce, stuffing, fluffy mashed, and pie. Apparently they have a fine Turkey station I’m super interested in, and I’ll be making a follow-up call to discuss the other buffet options. I want to roll myself out of there like a champion and no less, barely clinging to life with short breaths and wobbly gobbly legs. Tis turkeyyyy timeeeeee

1. While Taking photographs: Do not do the typical Western gesture of the “shutter click” with your hands. It’s a little offensive. Still figuring out why. Instead, make the AOK sign:

2. Friends hold hands. Many girls hold hands with their friends. To Westerners, it makes them seem like a couple. Usually this is not the case. The Taiwanese also show affection to friends by touching your upper arms more than usual. I think it’s great.

3. It is polite to deny nice comments. From what I’ve seen, the Taiwanese are very forward with telling you that they think you are pretty, or handsome, or intelligent ,etc. It is polite to lightly deny the compliment with the word “Nali, nali.” It means, no, no..

4. See this post on Danielle Sleeper’s blog for number hand gestures. Great entry.

5. A little Chinese goes a long way. Most Taiwanese appreciate whatever knowledge you have of Chinese. Use it. Some people get nervous when you approach them because they are afraid that they will not be able to communicate well in English. Say as much as you think you can and the situation will work itself out well. Chinglish is better than nothing!

6. If you’re in a hurry, try not to walk behind a group of Taiwanese. I love Taiwan, but I find myself a little peeved sometimes at the slower walking pace here. It is not a terribly bad thing, but my mind is culturally programmed to walk briskly. I often find myself cut off by slow walkers. Find a clear path if you are on limited time!

7. If you want bubbles in your milk tea, make sure you ask for them. Not really brilliant advice here, but I can’t tell you how many times I asked for milk tea and forgot to mention that I wanted tapioca pearls! Also remember to tell them the size and how much sugar! (Bubble tea pinyin: zhen zhu nai cha, sugar: tang)

8. Coffee sizes: Even though “Zhong” means medium or middle, and “Da” means big, “Zhong” is an American small coffee size and “Da” is an American medium.

Here's a Starbucks secret: They use the same amount of espresso in the cups. For a stronger cappuccino , pay less!

9. The best restaurants are definitely not flashy. Fancy restaurants usually worry too much on the scene than the quality of food. It’s familiar in the West too in many cases. Don’t ever be thrown off by hot steam, metal chairs and bad lighting.  If you see fluorescent lights and Mom and Pop behind the stove, you’ve probably scored a bingo.

10. Don’t leave the Chopsticks straight up after eating. Rest them horizontally, not vertically in bowls. Vertical chopsticks resemble the incense sticks used to honor ancestors, which is a bit insulting. Use the Chinese spoon to aid you with your rice on plates. Try not to ask for the soy sauce or extra condiments if someone has made you a dish… This means that your meal lacks flavor and it may hurt the feelings of the cook. If it is offered to you, it’s ok.

11. There are waiting lines in the metro stations. It’s not a free for all to jump onto the train. There are waiting lines to organize the flow of people in and out of the trains.

12. Bus Payments: While taking public bus transportation, you sometimes pay when you enter the bus, and other times once you get off. Look for shang “上” and xia “下” on the digital screens as you climb onto the bus. “Shang” means pay as you enter, and “Xia” means pay as you get off.

Over all, learn more about the etiquette of a country you are visiting or going to be living in. It is so important to be respectful to others when you are an outsider. It’s common sense, but many travelers still don’t do their research. You don’t have to know everything about a culture before going there. These are just a few things I have embraced during my small extent here in Taipei that I never knew before. More to come when I think of them. Versatility and adaptation are what make you a satisfactory world citizen.