From the annals of absurdity: The Cape No. 7 Tour

When the movie Titanic came out in 1997, throngs of teenage (and adult) girls flocked to theaters to watch the ill-fated romance of Jack and Rose. To call it fanaticism would be an understatement. When I finally saw it 2 or 3 months after its release, the theater was so crowded I ended up sitting in the aisle surrounded by sobbing adolescents who recited every line with the movie. It was impossible to go anywhere (even to sleep) without hearing Celine Dion's biggest hit ever, "My Heart Will Go On." I never thought I'd witness anything like Titanic-mania again.

11 years later, however, I find myself in the midst of another pop culture phenomenon: Cape No. 7, the total body experience. Cape No. 7 is a Taiwanese movie that combines the three things Taiwanese people love most: love stories, pop music, and discussions of national identity. The plot involves two story lines--one between a Japanese man and a Taiwanese woman at the end of the Japanese colonization period, and a present-day love story between a Taiwanese postman and a Japanese concert organizer. Both take place in Hengchun Township, a provincial, beachy area at the southermost part of the island.

The local response to this movie has been nothing short of fanaticism. I have co-workers who have seen it at least four times. Earlier this year, the local news reported that the Hengchun County Post Office received thousands of love letters from movie fans sent to the fabled address, Cape No. 7. Discussing the movie is the equivalent of talking about food or the weather. Everyone likes it, no one argues, we all save face and go home happy. Singing either of the hit songs from the movie (if you're a foreigner, that is) is a guaranteed, no-fail recipe for making Taiwanese friends, especially if you sing it at a KTV (that's Karaoke TV, pan- Asia's favorite weekend hangout.)

Recipe for instant friendship with the southern Taiwanese population

Hengchun Township has tried (successfully) to capitalize on Cape No. 7 Fantacism by putting together a Cape No. 7 Tour, where crazed Taiwanese people of all ages drive around Hengchun taking photos at all the sites where the movie was filmed. Hengchun looks exactly like any other provincial area of Taiwan, except with a nicer beach. Just like everywhere else that's not Taipei or Kaohsiung, there are weather-worn houses, stray dogs, lots of scooters and the faint-but-ubiquitous stench of fish. Yet, in spite of its ordinariness, people flocked to Hengchun to take photos of themselves at what appear to be the most mundane sites on the island including but not limited to 7/11, a random house where the main character lived or a shabby old alley. All the postmen trying to deliver mail got mobbed by tourists demanding to get a photo with themselves and a real Hengchun postman.

The following slideshow is from my fellow Fulbrighter Billy and I's trip to Hengchun with his host family and a few of my co-workers. Do you see the mobs of teenagers? Do you understand why they're so excited? Do you see why I'm confused?

Daily Accomplishment

Three or four of the students in one of my third grade classes are apparently "mute," according to their classmates. Whenever I call on one of these little mimes, their classmates always shout "Teacher Vicky, So-and-so doesn't talk, even in Chinese!" Statistically, I find it unlikely that one third grade class at a small school has more than one child who physically cannot speak. The more probable explanation is that Taiwanese children are, on the whole, painfully shy and fearful of making mistakes; thus, they avoid speaking if at all possible, especially in English.

Today, however, one of my little mutes decided to say "I like cake!" during class today, making my heart take a little leap. This was, of course, tempered by the fact that another child cried for the entire class period after being asked to say the same thing.

Tchoukball Fans... GET READY!

Taiwan  in 2009 is the place to be for sports fans who happen to follow athletic activities nobody else cares much about.  Last year, Beijing had the Olympics.  This year, Taipei will host the 2009 Deaflympics (something about that name seems like it should be offensive even though it's not) and Kaohsiung, my current home, will host the 2009 World Games.   

"What do you mean by 'athletic activities nobody else cares much about?'" you may be asking.  Please raise your hand if you've heard of the following sports:

-Competitive Tug-of-War

-Tchoukball

-Korfball

-Fin Swimming

-Canoe Polo

More ridiculous than the event itself is the city of Kaohsiung's attempts to build hype around a generally lackluster competition.   For starters, each elementary school must play host* to one competing country and we're supposed to teach our students about the guest country.  Maybe that's easy for my roommate Dan, whose school will host the USA.  My school will host Uzbekistan.  If I were to teach a lesson on Uzbekistan (which I won't because we barely have enough time to finish our curriculum) it would go something like this:

Me: Good morning class

Students: Good morning Teacher Vicky!

Me: Today we are going to learn about Uzbekistan.  Can you say UZ-BEK-I-STAN?

Students: UZ-BEK-I-STAN (repeat)!

Me: Very good!  Now, Uzbekistan is a very important country for illegal trade.  Does anyone know how to say illegal in Chinese?  (student answers) Very good!  Now, who knows how to say "guns and drugs" in Chinese?  (student answers).  Excellent! Uzbekistan is famous for selling illegal guns and drugs....

Then there is the theme song, as shown in the following music video.

I'm surprised I haven't memorized the words yet because it plays non-stop during commercial breaks, AND schools all around the city have to learn dances to the song.

Which brings me to my observation of the day: Some fellow ETAs and I were walking through the Cultural Center (the big park near my apartment) tonight when we saw a group of about 30 or 40 elementary school students performing a dance to the theme song. Most of them were dressed in normal clothes, but there were 3 randomly placed students wearing full animal costumes (dragon, unicorn, and lion).

And I thought I'd seen everything....

*I don't totally understand what "playing host" really means, but everyone I've asked makes it sound like they'll be using our schools as locker rooms.  This seems strange because the desks come up to MY knees and I'm only 5'2, yet most of the World Games athletes I've seen around here are comically tall.

CASTRATION!

When my roommate Katie picked up our dog from getting neutered last week, the vet asked, "Would you like to keep or see his testicles?"

What if she had kept them? Would she keep them in the fridge? In the common room for everyone to enjoy? As a paperweight on her desk?

This episode puts a whole new spin on the "When in Taiwan, do as the Taiwanese do" philosophy.

You Can't Take It With You

I thought of two ways to write about these photographs:

1.  The scooter is (as far as I can tell) the most popular mode of transportation in Kaohsiung, and it's amazing how much stuff they manage to fit onto one little vehicle.  It's not uncommon to see a family of four riding together--older child standing behind the steering column, dad in front, mom in back holding baby.  My roommate claims she once saw five dogs on one scooter--a small one in the front basket, a large one hanging over the streering column, one sitting on the (human) driver's lap, two in cages strapped to the back.  Since these spectacles tend to zoom by before I can dig my camera out of my purse, this elementary school student and his science project will have to do.  Plus, he's way cuter and seemingly less dangerous than some of the more outrageous scooter balancing acts seen around these parts.  

*Note: I hear that scooter-packing in India and Vietnam makes Taiwan look, well, safe.

2.  Taiwanese education experts constantly bemoan the state of "Creativity"
 on the island.   At least one of the schools that host Fulbright English Teaching Assistants has a "Creativity Center" (oh, the irony of building a center for creativity is not lost on me) where either a bunch of teachers plan events to encourage kids to be creative or kids go to be creative, though it's unclear which of these options is actually the purpose of the center.  One of my co-workers is apparently working towards a masters degree in "Creativity Studies," but his failure to explain what that actually means makes me suspect that Creativity is some sort of meaningless buzzword in the Taiwanese education field, sort of like "green" or "all-natural" in the United States.

Regardless of what Creativity actually means to a person living in Taiwan, perhaps educators who see this photo might breathe a sigh of relief knowing that their children are not actually robots.  Judging from our young hero's mother's expression pictured below (and her yelling, "This is much too big!  How can we possibly take it home!"), I assume that his project was unique among his classmates, at least in terms of size.  So worry not, Taiwanese Education Officials, your kids are not doomed to crunch numbers for the rest of human history!

3. In the spirit of creativity, I'd like to host a little contest--how would you write about these photos?  Leave all your ideas in the comment box.  I'll check them out at the end of the week.  Best entry gets a special postcard from Taiwan (and they're good ones, believe me!)  If you're timid about submitting, just think that if you're the only one who submits, you automatically win!  

I wish it were a mystery

From the grocery store around the corner:

Would Magic Molly eat it?

Be Mine

Taiwanese people celebrate not one, not two, but three Valentine's days--the Taiwanese one in August, the American one in February and the Japanese one on March 14, which is really like Valentine's Day part II.

Having surpassed the two-year mark in singledom, the holiday no longer registers in my brain. When I remember to think about it, it's mostly with indifference--I like couples and have nothing against love or the expression of love. At the same time, it amuses me that greeting card companies have convinced people spend lots of time, energy and money on a holiday that commemorates the death of a martyr who was stoned, clubbed, then beheaded. All in the name of love! But I digress...

As it turns out, I should probably be more sensitive or aware of holidays that might mean something to someone, especially when a whole island of those someones have so much love to give that its expression overflows into three, non-consecutive days each year. I absentmindedly scheduled three interviews with local Brown applicants at the Starbucks around the corner from my apartment today. When I arrived, there was a line stretching out the door. Must be the Saturday afternoon crowd, I thought. After reaching the front of the line and ordering a drink, the barista asked if I wanted two. "Two?" I asked. "Why would I need two hot chocolates?"

"It's buy one, get one free!" she exclaimed. I briefly considered--after all, why get one when you can get two? Then I looked around. The closet-sized lobby was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with caffeine-deprived-but-giddy couples. I was the only one alone.

"Oh, it's Valentine's Day! I just need one, thanks," I replied. Her smile softened into a countenance of deep, profound pity. I almost changed my drink order just so her face would re-inflate to its former perkiness.

But, beLOVED reader, spreading misery makes no one happy, so I'll end this post with the wise words and clever crafts of Ms. Alexandra Kleeman:

"...given a choice, it is usually better to be enthusiastic about something than unenthusiastic."

and so I SHOUT (emphatically, of course)

image stolen from http://technicolor.org

Taiwan: Touch Your....

Today an old woman walked up to me as I was waiting for the bus to work.  She said something to me in Taiwanese, and I looked at her quizically.  Then she reached out and touched my chest, one breast at a time.

Then she laughed, got on the next bus, and rode away.

Merry Christmas

I hope it's not wrong for me to feel homesick on Christmas, because I do. I'm currently at work because Christmas isn't a real holiday in Taiwan. No one has commented on my ugly holiday sweater, which means they just think I have terrible taste. I mean, it's kind of true, but nobody's fashion sense is THIS TERRIBLE!

I just reread an email from a professor describing the huge pile of snow most of you can probably see from your window. Now I feel a little sad. Talking to Taiwanese people about snow seems pointless-most of them haven't experienced it and waste their puffy down jackets on 60 degree weather. It seems fitting that the version of "White Christmas" we play over the loudspeakers every morning replaces all the words with animal noises.

That being said, the upside to missing friends and family is that at least there are friends and family to miss. Merry Christmas to all of you! Have a happy new year!

Earthquake!

Survived my first tremor today around 8:10 am. Have you ever seen the entire room shake before? It reminded me of that N*SYNC video where they're in a rotating box, except with more screaming children and the threat of lights dropping on my head. None of them got under desks or held up books or anything like that--they just held each other and screeched. Well, some of the little boys yelled, "Do it again! Do it again!"

Shouldn't they have drills for these things?

The News in Taiwan!

Two newsworthy events from this week:

1. Direct daily flights between Mainland China and Taiwan began on Monday! (Take that, Chen Shui-bian, you old bastard!)

2. "Man Who Snatched Wig Will Have Toupee" (!!) Thanks to my roommate Katie for finding this one.

**BONUS ARTICLE: Did you know that adultery is illegal in South Korea?

"Oh, to be 75 again..."

If this ain't precious....

...then I don't know what is.

Today Taiping Elementary School held it's 89th Anniversary Celebration (or "Birthday Party," as the principal called it) which, at its core, meant that I had to work on a Saturday, but in the best way possible.

Seriously, why are they so cute?

If it seems like I'm enamored with Asian children in matching outfits, that's because I am. Each grade had a different costume theme. The costumes became increasingly bland as the students got older (Kindergarten students wore sparkly, rainbow outfits; 3rd graders wore bright yellow do-rags on their heads; 6th graders made paper crowns.) Obviously, I mostly took photos of the Kindergarten and First grade students.

Are they supposed to be birds? Native Americans? Mardi Gras revelers? Does it even matter?

Of course, the only thing I love more than Asian children in matching costumes is Asian children in matching costumes while dancing in unison. Pictured below are the kindergarteners doing a dance about being healthy and loving exercise. It reminded me of a Barbie aerobics video, but of course, much cuter. (The least adorable performance: belly-dancing 5th and 6th grade girls).


Like school-wide events in the US, the birthday celebration also included races of the three-legged, potato sack, and Teacher Vicky vs. Her Fulbright Adviser vs. Her Principal variety. There were also some relay races I'd never seen before. One race involved two children running together inside a hula hoop, kicking over some bottles, hula-hooping a few times, picking up the bottles, and giving the hoop to the next pair.




And I've definitely never seen these before in my life:




Apparently they're arm-powered and will only move in zig-zags, making even the very short distance of 6 feet take what feels like a lifetime. (Not recommended as a spectator sport)

One thing I didn't expect was for the event to trigger old memories. As a kid, I remember getting dragged to Taiwanese Association events, enjoying the first hour, and then fidgeting in my chair for another two hours while the Taiwanese Association board conducted what felt like the world's longest raffle. (Of note: the only thing my family ever won was a set of locker shelves that were way too wide for any of the lockers I had in my school days--and none of us had a locker at the time). Now I see that the Columbus Taiwanese Association is undeserving of this superlative--apparently all Taiwanese events include a raffle, and all of these raffles are long.

Playing the waiting game

Of course, there is always a reason to stay: THE ULTIMATE PRIZE! THE NEVER-ENDING DREAM!


One dean, the Dean of Discipline no less, was so excited when I pulled his name that he did a jig and almost cried. Imagine this: the man you're most afraid of seeing in the office, a very serious man, is jumping up and down in excitement. I think (I hope) he's giving the bike to his son.

***Bonus Photos*****

An imagined conversation between Dr. Phil and me as we enjoy massages after losing to Principal Tsai in the running race:

DP: I was impressed. The Principal had a huge head start and you caught up.
VC: Second place is first loser.


Can you see my official staff t-shirt? It has a koala and the word "Cute" on it. How very elementary school!

Arrested Development

It's been an exciting week in politics, and no, I'm not talking about the recent U.S. election. I'm also not talking about Arrested Development, that most awesome of awesome sitcoms.

Chen Shui-bian, former president of Taiwan's pro-independence Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) was detained today for alleged corruption. Last week, DPP protesters stormed Taipei to express their displeasure over the arrival of the Chinese envoy Chen Yunlin, chairman of The Association for Relations Across the Straits. And for good measure, I should probably mention that protesters also mobbed the vice-chairman of this association at Tainan's Confucius Temple on October 21.

Here are the images I associate with each event (these are especially important since television news goes too quickly for my poor listening comprehension):

November 11: Chen Shui-bian holds his handcuffed arms up in victory as the police lead him away.
November 6: EMTs carry away a woman who has fainted in the midst of the angry, violent mob. It's night, and lots of people wear long, yellow ribbons that say "Taiwan is my country." The ribbons look like they're made of the same plastic as garbage bags or caution tape.
October 21: Daytime--a small crowd of people pushes down the vice-chairman. Then one of them (I think he's wearing green) jumps on top of the envoy's fancy black car. He stomps around, leaving wide, shallow dents on the roof.

I could have sworn that Chen was already found guilty of corruption, but since the media here is unabashedly partisan, I'm afraid that I've been swayed by my father's political persuasion in believing that he's embezzled 14.8 million NTD (that's $480,500 US). The BBC keeps saying "alleged charges," so I guess I'm wrong.

Here's where I get confused--the BBC has printed the following quotation from Chen:

"The KMT and the Chinese Communist Party see me as their number one prisoner as I am the biggest stone blocking their way to reunification," Mr Chen told reporters, according to the French news agency AFP.

He said the Chinese envoy, Chen Yunlin, "had a bad time in Taiwan... so Ma Ying-jeou wants to put me in jail as a sacrifice to appease China. I am very honoured and proud to play such a role."

Initially, I felt like Chen was just manipulating people's Sino-phobic emotions, but that was before I realized the charges were alleged and not proven. So what if he's not guilty? Is he really President Ma's sacrifice to appease China? To be honest, I still feel like Chen is playing the spin game, but is that my bias talking?

Only time will tell. Until then, I'll be in a perpetual state of second-guessing.

The Election From Abroad

Biggest roadblocks to voting from Taiwan:

1. Deciphering the first question on the Federal Voting Registration and Absentee Ballot Request: Asking yourself, "am I living abroad temporarily or indefinitely" inevitably leads to an existential crisis about the future.

2. Making 2 trips to the post office (once to mail off absentee ballot request, once to mail off the completed ballot).
***Correlated challenge: locating the nearest post office, hoping its office hours don't conflict with your work schedule.

3. Knowing your address

The moral of the story: please enjoy the relative ease of your voting experience tomorrow. The lines may be long, but at least you don't have to translate your contact information into English.

Please, please, please don't forget to vote (especially if it's for Barack Obama)

The Monster Mash

For the first time in eight years, I did not wear my Pokemon costume for Halloween. I thought about bringing it as I was packing for the summer. It was all folded up at the bottom of my suitcase, but since I only had 2 suitcases for the upcoming year, it just didn't make the cut. Considering everything that has changed for me in the past 6 months, it seems strange that leaving Jigglypuff behind would feel like the worst part about growing up.

The way to get over sadness is, of course, to impose American culture on a country that doesn't celebrate Halloween! Shuting and I planned Halloween activities for the entire week--that's around 20 hours of mummy-wrapping, donut-eating, costume-making and mask parading in 5 days! And that doesn't include the throngs of children banging down our door to beg for candy between classes.

And here's photographic proof:




Favorite costumes include: the pork-jerky monster (aka the girl with wads of newspaper taped to her face) and the transformer (made of a box). More than anything, I'm proud to have such creative students--we didn't let them buy the materials for the costumes and I think they turned out quite nicely!

Basically, my week went a lot like this:



Happy Halloween everyone!

Not all candy is created equal. Dum-dums, for example, are not as good as Snickers bars. Don't try to convince me otherwise.

The Taiwanese have taken candy inequality to a whole new level. Here's a sampling of the stuff we've been giving our kids:


Center: Cola flavor
Bottom center, white color: Milk flavor
Green candy: Creamy Sour Apple
Blue candy: Mystery blue flavor
Pink and yellow wrapper: Yogurt flavor
Top, green and yellow wrapper: Creamy lime
Gold wrapper: Honey Flavor

and my all-time favorite

Right side, orange-red wrapper: Wax Gourd Flavor

Maybe I should hand out toothbrushes. Happy Halloween, everyone!

The Liquid Rule of Taiwan

Ok, Taiwan, why are you always putting my liquids in a bag? I mean, it's cute how you put the stray through the hole at the top, but I just don't believe that a twist-tie can adequately prevent this from becoming a boba tea geyser.

And don't think that you're off the hook for putting my soup in a bag either.

Meet Your Moon Festival

This post would have been about the upcoming Autumn Moon Festival, which takes place this Sunday, and the mountain of moon cakes (pictured above) we've received for the occasion, but a typhoon has hit Northeast Taiwan. According to my Aunt (who is neurotic), it is ripping large store signs and concrete off of buildings.

Luckily for me, I'm in Southwest Taiwan and it's not projected to hit my area too hard. Even so, the clouds move quickly out here. Here's a quick video of the skies I took on my digital camera:



I'm feeling pretty safe at the moment, though if the storm turns or does something else that's unexpected, I may be locked in my house for a while. That being said, I'm pretty sure I have enough ramen and moon cakes to last me a month. I won't eat well, but I certainly won't starve. And hopefully when this all passes, it will be time for an update about the moon festival!

The Cow of Knowledge and The Messy Teacher

First day of school! First day of school!

At least it was on September 1. I've been waiting until I had photos before I put up this post.

Shu-ting and I arrived at 7:30 am on Monday morning for our first day of school. By the time we got there, there were children everywhere sweeping the sidewalks and wiping down desks in the classrooms. It felt kind of weird sitting around in a classroom watching kids clean but not chipping in, but it's part of the culture. The students help the teachers do everything--kids move all the textbooks into the classrooms, they even decorate the classrooms according to the teacher's instructions. When one of my fellow ETAs mentioned to a teacher that we worked really hard to make posters for the English Village, the teacher replied, "Why didn't you just get the kids to make them?" I've always heard that in Asian society, students really respect their teachers, but it's the little things that drive the point home.

The first graders had their orientation ceremony that morning, which of course entailed lots of balloons:

Disclaimer: The reason I'm prominently featured in the following photos is not just because I'm a total narcissist. I forgot my camera that day and had to get the photos from the Dean of Academic Affairs. He, of course, thought that I only wanted photos that included myself, and I didn't feel like explaining that I wanted all of the photos to pick and choose from since he's really busy.

If you look carefully, you'll see stalks of green onions sticking out of the balloon arches or "the Gates of Wisdom." The Chinese word for green onion is cong1 which sounds like the Chinese word for smart, cong1ming2. Now, you may be asking, "Who is what man in the middle with the big balloon hat?" That's definitely the principal. The people on either side of the photo wearing balloon hats are also head administrators at the school. Pretty cool, huh?

After the kids walked through the gate, the principal gave a long speech about working hard and gaining knowledge. I zoned out for most of it, but at one point he definitely said, "You must grow bigger and stronger so that animals won't eat you!" After he finished his speech, one of the teachers rolled something large covered in a red blanket. She gave an emphatic speech and then dramatically threw off the blanket to reveal....

THE COW OF KNOWLEDGE!!!!!

They then had each child stand up and take a pack of Oreo cookies which were taped to the cow's back. I haven't gotten the full scoop on the cow of knowledge, but a friend told me that you're supposed to put a hair from the cow under your pillow on September 28, which I believe is Confucius day. If anyone wants to provide a thorough explanation of this practice, I'd be glad to post it.

Stealing the secrets of Chinese knowledge. Apparently it has something to do with high fructose corn syrup

They also asked me to introduce myself in front of the student body. I gave a short introduction in English and asked my co-teacher to translate for me since my Chinese isn't great. I tried to keep it short: "Hi, my name is Vicky. I am here from America and I will be teaching English for 1 year with Teacher Shuting. I'm really excited to be here!" Shuting decided that I needed a more thorough introduction, so in addition to translating my words, she noted that I'm trying to learn the words to Jay Chou's Cowboy on the Run so I can sing it at karaoke. She also told the kids: "Just like you are trying to learn English, Teacher Vicky is trying to learn Taiwanese. Right now she only knows one Taiwanese word: Musasa (translation: messy), so you should try to practice with her if you can!"

Now when I walk down the hallway, I hear kids yelling musasa! at me. I think it's going to be a great year!

QiGong--Keeping us 22 years-old Forever

Ok, I know that Power Rangers in Space doesn't have anything to do with QiGong, a traditional Chinese spiritual practice, but I simply can't find anything that sufficiently captures my experience at QiGong class today.

We (my flatmates, another ETA Gered, and I) were invited to the class by a local friend's mother who promised that the practice would preserve us at whatever age we were when we started the practice. We were also told that it would hurt a lot but not actually be strenuous. The woman warned us against eating anything before going to QiGong class. She also claimed that when we left class, we would be so full of qi (roughly translated as spiritual energy) that we wouldn't need to eat. These promises seemed somewhat far-fetched, but we were curious about a practice that wasn't strenuous but extremely painful. Also, the promise of staying 22 for eternity was too good to pass up...

Due to the language barrier between us and Jane (the woman who invited us), it was never completely clear what exactly QiGong was before we showed up at the class. Nor did we know what would be appropriate attire or where the class was. All we knew was that someone (presumably Jane) would pick us up outside the Family Mart at 6:50 pm.

So we showed up outside Family Mart and Dani called Jane to ask what we should do next. All of the sudden, a man none of us have seen before ran up to Dan and excited yelled "Daniel! Daniel!" while stretching his arms towards the sky and lowering them several times (Dan later said, "I don't know why I nodded and said "Yes! Yes!" when this strange man ran up to me yelling my name, but I'm glad it happened). The man opened the door of a black SUV and we piled in--6 of us for 4 seats. Somehow I ended up stretched across Dan and Gered's laps--and I definitely didn't ask if it was ok first--while Katie perched on Dani's lap. We bumped along for several blocks until we pulled up in front of a community center hidden behind a fruit stand.

As it turns out, QiGong class is sort of like yoga class, except with a few key differences. Most notably, most yoga studios have a gentle, quiet atmosphere with soft lighting and warm-colored wood floors. The QiGong class definitely took place in a room that made me feel like I was being dissected for science class. There was bright fluorescent lighting, made more intense by the shiny white-tiled floors and stark white walls. We also did our exercises on shiny silver mats that looked like spacesuit material (hence the Power Ranger video).

Our instructor was also not like any of the yoga instructors I've had in the past. My previous yoga teachers have all been female, spoken in soft voices and emphasized that we should challenge ourselves but know our limits. "Do what you can," "feel your arms stretching towards the sky. Breathe deeply, let go of your troubles," or "feel your inner beauty" they always say. This instructor was a 45 year-old guy who liked to show off how young he was by doing crazy headstands and the splits and getting the older members of the group to do crazy QiGong stunts like headstands and the splits. He barked his instructions ("Lift your leg into the air! Now the left one!) and kept coming by to tell me that if I did this or that pose, I would be prettier. He told one of my flatmates that her body was unhealthy but QiGong would fix it. He also didn't seem to believe in limits--Dan was having trouble laying flat on the ground with his legs bent, knees together and heels pressed against his thighs. The instructor kept telling him to "RELAX!" and Dan kept saying, "I am relaxed, but I'm also in excruciating pain. I don't think I can do this" and the instructor kept pushing. It was a strange 2 hours indeed.

In spite of the fact that the class was strange and at times ridiculous, I would highly recommend it. I felt great when I walked out, and it's true that there were some young, fit-looking 58 year olds in the room who could do cool things like balance on their heads while holding their legs in the air in a perfect straddle. I'm really looking forward to being 22 for the rest of my life!