I got yelled at by Monks today for cleaning improperly.
They are really peaceful kind people, although one gave me a little bottle of strange oil for mosquito bites, because I was scratching, and then I said thank you in Manderin and he just gave me this sort of sarcastic look. They are really cool though, even though I couldn't understand what they were saying and had to use Jeff to pass me the wisdom.
I wondered sometimes:
What if Jeff is giving me false wisdom. This wisdom is from Jeff's mind, not the monk. Can Jeff really speak Manderin? What is the realtionship between the Manderin language and Manderin Oranges? All thing I will probably never know, but in conclusion the 2 night all expense paid stay at the Bhuddist monestary was fantastic!
Another interesting experiance I must share happened before we got into the Monestary. We were walking through a town and then this guy started saying hey, asking where we were going and such. (or so I assume, Jeff never tells me anything. We just don't work well together. We don't talk anymore. Its not like it used to be.) That was all a weird break-up style joke, but back to the man that accosted us. He bought us these nuts that your supposed to chew to give you a "buzz" (as teens these days say). I thought it was food. (Jeff never tells me anything.) I started chewing it, this man and his cohorts who had surrounded us were looking on expectantly.
Nothin. I felt nothing.
So then he invited us into his "storefront." Inside I heard what sounded like the clinging of Poker chips. It wasn't, it was dominoes. But it was gambling. So apparently we had stumbled into an underground gambling game with dominoes. So we did the only logical thing: we sat down and had tea. When I asked to go to the bathroom, they pointed me in the direction of it, and on my way there I noted that we were in an abandoned house, all except for the room with the gambling. So yada yada yada, We drank lots of tea, had our fun. Got my name written in Chinese and left. And it was good.
So finally on this post on January the 8th in the year Two thousand and Eight, I have been requested to show some of my dirtiest scribblings from the trip. I hope this suffices:
A cartoon labelled Badmitten, where theres a Man sized mitten on one side of a net, smoking a cigarette with tatoos covering his fingers and an angry glare. He is swinging to hit the birdie over the net.
Brand name for fake poop makers: Shampoo
Heres a poem about firework factory workers:
The new years city explosion after the building explosion was brought to you by the Peking factory.
Chien Kashai made the bomber that crazed American towell-goers
Bien Shu Min made a child cry
Zhu Wei Chow killed a pyrotechnician
Chen Chi Wong finished a finale that sent funslaves home in throves, smiling into their pillows
But Chiang Fu Shun threw two pale colors in the sky so low the crowd didn't leap in fire-moan Ooo's
He fought his way to the clouds but made it only a meager 20 meters, just barely touching the dispersed smoke of his buddies
It was simply unspectacular
But he had no idea what he hadn't done
Nor did the others know what they had done
They all were coming home from a 12 hour monday,
Hands of soot and verticle eyes as they whispered the words "Good Night"
To their sleeping wives.
The Barnaman Bailey Irish Creme
Cut with odd armhairs
That gave him faux muscles
Thats enough of this nonsense! These pictures are some of those from Hualien city in Black and White and a scene from walking, in color.
Todays famous Doctor: Dr. Phil