On the Road

It may seem like I talk a lot about my daily commute.
But, if you think about it, it's a pretty major facet of my day-to-day existence.
As well, it's when I do most of my thinkin.
But you know, it ain't like I'm ensconced in the comfort of my 5-year old Tercel whizzing past the carpool lane.
Really, if you've ever spent nearly 2 hours every day locked in a death struggle with 5000 years of culture, vying with approximately 800 to 900 crazed Celestials for the same six-inch space down the side of a poorly-tuned city bus with nothing but body hair and a fine sheen of sweat separating you from blunt force trauma and major laceration, well, you know it makes an impression.

I used to know a guy who said the 3 most useless questions in Taiwan were:

What was he thinking?


Well, I guess he won't be making that mistake again, will he?

And

Do you smell something?

I swear I could almost drive to work with my eyes closed, just tracking smells.
Starting in my neighborhood, which smells like, well, my neighborhood.
Past the Famerse Baozhi store.
Then the jungle smell when I skirt the base of the mountains.
Over the bridge, which is so high up and open, the air is kind of disturbingly fresh.
Over the overgrown vacant ground on the other bank, which has a distinct grass and mold smell.
Then along the river, which smells like you'd expect.
Past that one breakfast shop that always seems to be frying chicken.
And then down into the exhaust and hot concrete stink of the underground motorcycle parking lot, or, as I refer to it, the Two and a Halfth Circle of Hell.
Finally, there's that weird long-chain polymer smell as the elevator goes past the fab floors.

Oh yeah, also, across from the local office of  The Wee Irish Fella's company, I pass the Juice & Chicken House.
Which, of course, always makes me think of

After all, who doesn't like chicken & waffles???

Raj