Typhoon post #2
I ended the last post with "to be continued..." but that was really the end of the story. Later that day I bought a thin mattress and sheets, a water filter and an electric kettle. As a housewarming present, Mr. Song gave me some tea, a pomelo, a mooncake, a pineapple cake, a small knife, a bar of soap, and a coffee mug.
Since then I've had a few weeks to explore the neighborhood. There's an air-conditioned cafe down the street that serves good espressos in absurd espresso cups.
Good espresso in absurd cups
Most of the storefronts on the main road where I live are motorcycle or car mechanics, parts dealers, or car dealerships. There's a betel nut shop across the street, frequented by truckers. Next to my building there's a plant nursery, the restaurant where I got the noodles that tided me over during the typhoon, an adult video store, a kindergarten, a guitar shop, and a pet store. Of the four gray kittens in the window display cage, two are always fighting, and one sleeps in the litter box. The last one stands to the side, staring into space.
On the opposite side of the street to the east, behind the buildings, there's a big green hill. In the morning the sun rises over the hill and sends light into the sun balcony, down the hall, through the small window into my room. A little before noon my room gets darker, but in the afternoon on clear days the sun reflects off the buildings and comes through the window again.
The other day I decided to block the light coming into the window by putting up a curtain. There's no rail to hang a curtain from, but I had some pushpins I got at the local stationery store, so I just needed something to hang from them.
At first I thought if I kept my eyes open I would pass a fabric or curtain store eventually. When a few days of implementing this strategy full time produced no results, however, I gave up on it and took the bull by the horns. I used the internet.
It turns out there is a fabric district in Taipei, and all the fabric stores are there. Walking from Taipei Main Station, you first pass through the holiday-themed district -- witch hats, pumpkins, and sparkling skeleton cutouts cluttering the window displays -- then an old brick art museum, then a no man's land of convenience stores, and you finally come to an intersection where all the stores sell fabric.
I bought a big square piece of light blue fabric at the first shop I went to, and went back to the train station for dinner.
Coffee, Teatime & Goodtime. Pasta, Pizza & Cutty heart.
Don't forget the gas pump.
I went to the Chinese medicine doctor a couple weeks ago to ask about my digestion, which hasn't been optimal since I came back from China five years ago (Aspiring Adventurers: don't let that scare you -- just make sure you have a vibrant gut culture before you go). The doctor gave me some brown, dusty medicine (to be taken with water three times a day before meals), and said to avoid coffee, tea, bread, steamed buns, pears, pineapples, lemons, bean products, sweets and cakes, anything pickled, dairy, guava, lotus roots, and jujubes.
She looked surprised when I asked her what was left.
Rice, she reminded me. Green vegetables! Meat!
Oh. Right.
Recently I've been eating a lot of Japanese food.
Dinner at Taipei Main Station. Comes with bottomless rice and miso soup.
Fried rice with "cherry blossom shrimp" and salmon
