meaning in the moving design

I keep forgetting that I'm an absolute weather curse. The day I arrive in Taipei is the first day of rain it's seen all winter. It lasts for a week. Today is the first day of no rain! That's worth writing about. So, intial thoughts:
On the Western--Asian continuum (draw a line...), Taiwan (or more specifically, Taipei) is about 5 steps forward and 2 steps back. The public toilets are squats... but they have toilet paper and flushers. There are crazy markets that sell anything and everything... but no one haggles or cheats you. There is crazy traffic... but everyone obeys the traffic signals. There are massive amounts of people... but the Taiwanese have an almost cultish obsession with line-ups and orderliness ([tangent]... and umbrellas!! note to self- find out if it's considered "bad luck" to refuse someone's umbrella shelter). It's by far the most "modern" Asian city I've ever been to, so in that regard, the culture shock is not particularly shocking at all.

My first reaction walking down the streets of Taipei was that I was in a Chinatown that never ended; my first thought was that all the signs were mocking my failure as a child to learn how to read and write chinese, and if only I'd spent all those Saturday mornings getting to Chinese school on time instead of watching the second half of Gummi Bears, oh what a wonderfully easy place this would be to navigate today. But alas kids, I am but an illiterate faux-Chinese Canadian. The general reaction to me and my non-chinese speaking ways from the locals is of slightly-annoyed disbelief. They can't understand why I am speaking to them in baby-talk. I've found that it's easier to say I am Cantonese than Canadian... less confusion. That's probably not going to help me at all when I start teaching.

Surprisingly, I am learning to read faster than I am learning to speak, at least so far. This is because all the menus are written in Chinese, and you know, a girl's gotta eat. In canteens, or restaurants, you just check off a dish and hand it in, no talking. Now if the whole menu is written in a language you can't read, well, you just have to kinda resort to some craftiness. Example: Point emphatically to something that looks yummy. Draw or mime the item you wish to consume. Stalk the kitchen staff until they bring something tasty out, then hand them a menu and pencil and nodd vigorously... that one's my favourite- more exercise for your meal!!

I am out of Taipei now. In a small, small town. I think I'm close to the pinky finger of nowhere. Small, did I mention? But that... for another day.