Description
I finally arrive in Hualien after spending nearly two weeks traveling in northern Taiwan. I'll be working at a hostel in exchange for accommodation. It's the perfect time to connect with locals, discuss the atmosphere of youth hostels, and explore Taiwanese cinema and its strong identity!
Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.
Transcription
Hello and welcome to this 9th podcast dedicated to Taiwan. After several weeks of traveling, I've arrived in Hualien, on the east coast. I'll be working in a hostel in exchange for accommodation. This is a great opportunity to talk about the atmosphere here and to introduce you to Taiwanese cinema. Enjoy the episode. Keep your wings, le podcast. Chapter 9. A fair exchange. After several weeks of traveling along the northeast coast, I arrive in the small town of Hualien, home to one of the five international ports of the former Formosa. The sun's rays tickle my frail face, and a gentle breeze accompanies me, almost making me forget the significant weight of my two bags, which are beginning to make my back and leg ache. Luckily, my hostel isn't far from the train station on foot, at least that's what I thought. I venture to the left side of the train station, and try to navigate among the many streets. I spot the Yonmen Suetei, a hotel and residential complex. It's hard to miss with its imposing stature and rather surprising geometric shape. Unfortunately for me, I realize that I am on the right side of the station, so I have to turn back. Disappointed because the area seemed rather nice and closely an excellent street restaurant where I gorge myself on rice with shredded chicken. I finally arrive in front of my hostel and introduce myself. Hello, I'm Sébastien, the new helper.
Hi, I'm Nadine.
A young girl responds with a big smile.
I'm the manager of the hostel. We've already finished cleaning today, so invite you to take off the shoes, put on some slippers and follow me. I'll show you a room.
I climb the stairs that lead me to my dorm and I already notice the immaculate cleanliness of this hostel. It's not hard to see. Everything shines, everything exudes cleanliness, everything looks astonishingly spotless. I hadn't missed this characteristic before, but it's even more evident in places with a certain standard. The hotel where I'll be working in exchange for accommodation is part of a fairly reputable chain in Taiwan. The quality of their staff, hygiene and atmosphere are generally their strong points. It wasn't until the next day when I started scrubbing that I realized how much more... meticulous they could be than we are in Belgium. At least I had never seen such a degree of attention to cleaning. We rotated tasks with Lynn and Joyce, two other helpers. While one took care of making the six bed in the six dorms spread across two floors, another cleaned the three bathrooms, four shower and four toilets in the entire building. And the last one vacuumed and mopped the floors with very specific instruction. One sponge for the mirror, one for the sink, one for the toilet, enough to drive you crazy. Trash cans had to be cleaned from the inside out, with the lid wiped meticulously. After scrubbing the shower, we had to wipe down the water droplets on the walls and doors. Only after this routine was complete did we move on to other tasks, each more tedious than the last. Scrubbing the slippers with a brush and disinfectant, cleaning the window, the inside of kitchen drawers, and, to top it off, rewashing all the already sore cutlery, and cleaning the tables, including the legs and the underside of the table. There was no doubt that this place smelled of citrus cleaner from floor to ceiling. The Taiwanese I hung out with were very hygiene conscious, frequently using disinfectant, constantly washing their hands, and taking showers two to three times a day. I am exhausted, I exclaimed at the end of my first day of work.
Ha, yeah, it was indeed a long day.
Lin commented, wiping her sweet soaked bangs from her forehead.
Do you guys want to grab a bite outside?
Joy suggested. Oh, after a shower, why not? Very quickly, despite the presence of other temporary helpers, Lynn, Joyce and I formed a close trio, with Maddy joining us from time to time. Still young, but very professional. She mainly managed the reservation, ensured everything was functioning in the hostel, and helped out when repairs were needed. Despite her studies, she struggled to find a job related to her field.
I've been managing the Soskel Parktime for over a year and a half. I'm able to make money, but not enough to live comfortably. I hope I won't be doing this for the rest of my life.
She told me one morning over a cup of jasmine tea. Lynn and Joyce were both students. Lynn was in the final year of a master's in film studies. Her ultimate dream was to become a film director and showcase Taiwan's potential. Taiwanese cinema, by the way, has a very strong identity. Closely linked to its history, it has always been a creative hub since the Japanese occupation. After the battle between the Chinese and the Japanese, Taiwan was seeded as a trophy to the victors. The Japanese saw Formosa as an opportunity to make propaganda films to show the world the exemplary nature of their colony. It wasn't until World War II, when Taiwan was handed over to Chinese nationalist government, that the cinematic structures were taken over by mainland China. Fiction and documentary film emerged, but the real upheaval occurred in 1949. The Chinese National Party, KMT, was defeated by the communists. The KMT took refuge on the island, establishing the Republic of China in exile. Two million refugees followed the KMT, and state production houses with their staff were relocated to Taiwan. From 1951, propaganda films were produced. announcing the reconquest of China and promoting the economic successes of the KMT in Taiwan. It was exactly during this period that Hong Kong companies began producing various films in a language close to Oklo, spoken at the time by the majority of the local Taiwanese population. It was a resounding success, more popular of course with the locals than the Mandarin propaganda. However, in the 1970s, a law banned the use of different languages in public spaces. From that moment on, Oklo cinema completely faded. Mandarin production expanded favoring three genres, propaganda, once again, kung fu films, and three-room films. Describe it as works that portray sentimental stories in bourgeois settings and reflect the dream of a society that is becoming increasingly industrialized. Since then, the new wave has taken over and gained international recognition, particularly at several renowned festivals, including Cannes, a cinema of which the Taiwanese are particularly proud. Joyce, on the other hand, wanted to become a teacher, and still had a few years ahead of her before completing her studies. This made me wonder, what were all these Taiwanese people doing working in hostels during their vacation? The answer was surprising.
We rarely take vacation because it weighs heavily on our budget. To discover a place we don't know without spending too much, the ideal is to work there in exchange for accommodation. It gives us time to enjoy the city, make new people, and visit beautiful places like the Tarakal Gorge. which isn't too far from Guanyin.
This hard-working, industrious mentality was omnipresent, even during the vacation periods. Quite a shock compared to some of our Taiwanese guests, who were not very social, uncomfortable in social settings, and especially unable to fend for themselves. A gap is growing between those who are used to travel and the others. As surprising as it may seem, we often receive visits from people on a road trip around Taiwan. Mostly locals on motorcycles or scooters. They stopped by the hostel, chatted with other Taiwanese, played board games, shared tea, took countless photos, and created communities of friends made in just a few moments. Teas were fleeting encounters, but they delight their hearts and their Instagram followers. What seemed strange to me was simply normal and rational for the Taiwanese. Where else could they meet other people who share their interests? In hostels, of course. while in Europe we would tend to go to a bar or a party to socialize. What was amazing was that the hostel itself wasn't their destination, it was just a stopover during their day of travel. I remember talking to one of them, who explained that he looked for the best hostel not to spend the night, but to meet people during the day. This overall peaceful and pleasant atmosphere put me in such a state of well-being that I almost forgot my initial apprehensions. We organized discussion table in the evening, where we conversed in English and Mandarin, we watched movies, notably in English and Chinese, and played board games. It was a far cry from the western hostel, where partying and drinking are often the main attractions. Here, it was all about tea, reading, and card games. An atmosphere that might become a bit childish over time, but in this context, it didn't bother me much, as I added a few beers to the mix. Let's not go overboard. Even the music playing in the hostel was mostly in Chinese. rarely international. It was often romantic ballads, which eventually annoyed me, but the quiet life within the hostel perfectly matched this kind of music. The area around Hualien was filled with numerous karaoke bars and a few cafes. While karaoke is very trendy in Taiwan, it's because it sparks true patience. Here, it's quite common to rent a private room for yourself and your friend, add an all-you-can-drink or all-you-can-eat option, and some people spend their evening indulging in beverage and dumplings. Renting a karaoke room for around 10 hours is not unusual. According to several Taiwanese I had the chance to talk to, karaoke can serve as an alternative form of lodging. Hostel prices are noticeably higher than in other Asian countries, excluding Japan and South Korea of course, with an average of 15 euros per night in a dormitory. In contrast to these large karaoke complexes, small, intimate cafes still exist where you can also sing a tune. However, be careful. Not all storefront advertising karaoke are actually places to sing, or are they? Some establishment offering soppy massage, meaning happy ending massages. They are hidden behind flashy facade that suggests karaoke, but once you walk through the door, you find yourself in a bar, A dozen of pairs of testicles stare right at you with surprise, making you feel uncomfortable quickly and urging you to leave. One day, while we were eating, I felt a violent pressure coming from the ground. The glasses started moving on on their own. The ceiling lights flung like pendulums, and the books on the shelves shifted a few centimeters. It lasted two, maybe three seconds at most, just long enough to surprise us. Everyone looked at each other, stunned, without saying a word.
Get out,
Maddy ordered. We went outside and then, nothing. It was the first time. of a much more dramatic heaven that will hit us full force in the days to come.
Description
I finally arrive in Hualien after spending nearly two weeks traveling in northern Taiwan. I'll be working at a hostel in exchange for accommodation. It's the perfect time to connect with locals, discuss the atmosphere of youth hostels, and explore Taiwanese cinema and its strong identity!
Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.
Transcription
Hello and welcome to this 9th podcast dedicated to Taiwan. After several weeks of traveling, I've arrived in Hualien, on the east coast. I'll be working in a hostel in exchange for accommodation. This is a great opportunity to talk about the atmosphere here and to introduce you to Taiwanese cinema. Enjoy the episode. Keep your wings, le podcast. Chapter 9. A fair exchange. After several weeks of traveling along the northeast coast, I arrive in the small town of Hualien, home to one of the five international ports of the former Formosa. The sun's rays tickle my frail face, and a gentle breeze accompanies me, almost making me forget the significant weight of my two bags, which are beginning to make my back and leg ache. Luckily, my hostel isn't far from the train station on foot, at least that's what I thought. I venture to the left side of the train station, and try to navigate among the many streets. I spot the Yonmen Suetei, a hotel and residential complex. It's hard to miss with its imposing stature and rather surprising geometric shape. Unfortunately for me, I realize that I am on the right side of the station, so I have to turn back. Disappointed because the area seemed rather nice and closely an excellent street restaurant where I gorge myself on rice with shredded chicken. I finally arrive in front of my hostel and introduce myself. Hello, I'm Sébastien, the new helper.
Hi, I'm Nadine.
A young girl responds with a big smile.
I'm the manager of the hostel. We've already finished cleaning today, so invite you to take off the shoes, put on some slippers and follow me. I'll show you a room.
I climb the stairs that lead me to my dorm and I already notice the immaculate cleanliness of this hostel. It's not hard to see. Everything shines, everything exudes cleanliness, everything looks astonishingly spotless. I hadn't missed this characteristic before, but it's even more evident in places with a certain standard. The hotel where I'll be working in exchange for accommodation is part of a fairly reputable chain in Taiwan. The quality of their staff, hygiene and atmosphere are generally their strong points. It wasn't until the next day when I started scrubbing that I realized how much more... meticulous they could be than we are in Belgium. At least I had never seen such a degree of attention to cleaning. We rotated tasks with Lynn and Joyce, two other helpers. While one took care of making the six bed in the six dorms spread across two floors, another cleaned the three bathrooms, four shower and four toilets in the entire building. And the last one vacuumed and mopped the floors with very specific instruction. One sponge for the mirror, one for the sink, one for the toilet, enough to drive you crazy. Trash cans had to be cleaned from the inside out, with the lid wiped meticulously. After scrubbing the shower, we had to wipe down the water droplets on the walls and doors. Only after this routine was complete did we move on to other tasks, each more tedious than the last. Scrubbing the slippers with a brush and disinfectant, cleaning the window, the inside of kitchen drawers, and, to top it off, rewashing all the already sore cutlery, and cleaning the tables, including the legs and the underside of the table. There was no doubt that this place smelled of citrus cleaner from floor to ceiling. The Taiwanese I hung out with were very hygiene conscious, frequently using disinfectant, constantly washing their hands, and taking showers two to three times a day. I am exhausted, I exclaimed at the end of my first day of work.
Ha, yeah, it was indeed a long day.
Lin commented, wiping her sweet soaked bangs from her forehead.
Do you guys want to grab a bite outside?
Joy suggested. Oh, after a shower, why not? Very quickly, despite the presence of other temporary helpers, Lynn, Joyce and I formed a close trio, with Maddy joining us from time to time. Still young, but very professional. She mainly managed the reservation, ensured everything was functioning in the hostel, and helped out when repairs were needed. Despite her studies, she struggled to find a job related to her field.
I've been managing the Soskel Parktime for over a year and a half. I'm able to make money, but not enough to live comfortably. I hope I won't be doing this for the rest of my life.
She told me one morning over a cup of jasmine tea. Lynn and Joyce were both students. Lynn was in the final year of a master's in film studies. Her ultimate dream was to become a film director and showcase Taiwan's potential. Taiwanese cinema, by the way, has a very strong identity. Closely linked to its history, it has always been a creative hub since the Japanese occupation. After the battle between the Chinese and the Japanese, Taiwan was seeded as a trophy to the victors. The Japanese saw Formosa as an opportunity to make propaganda films to show the world the exemplary nature of their colony. It wasn't until World War II, when Taiwan was handed over to Chinese nationalist government, that the cinematic structures were taken over by mainland China. Fiction and documentary film emerged, but the real upheaval occurred in 1949. The Chinese National Party, KMT, was defeated by the communists. The KMT took refuge on the island, establishing the Republic of China in exile. Two million refugees followed the KMT, and state production houses with their staff were relocated to Taiwan. From 1951, propaganda films were produced. announcing the reconquest of China and promoting the economic successes of the KMT in Taiwan. It was exactly during this period that Hong Kong companies began producing various films in a language close to Oklo, spoken at the time by the majority of the local Taiwanese population. It was a resounding success, more popular of course with the locals than the Mandarin propaganda. However, in the 1970s, a law banned the use of different languages in public spaces. From that moment on, Oklo cinema completely faded. Mandarin production expanded favoring three genres, propaganda, once again, kung fu films, and three-room films. Describe it as works that portray sentimental stories in bourgeois settings and reflect the dream of a society that is becoming increasingly industrialized. Since then, the new wave has taken over and gained international recognition, particularly at several renowned festivals, including Cannes, a cinema of which the Taiwanese are particularly proud. Joyce, on the other hand, wanted to become a teacher, and still had a few years ahead of her before completing her studies. This made me wonder, what were all these Taiwanese people doing working in hostels during their vacation? The answer was surprising.
We rarely take vacation because it weighs heavily on our budget. To discover a place we don't know without spending too much, the ideal is to work there in exchange for accommodation. It gives us time to enjoy the city, make new people, and visit beautiful places like the Tarakal Gorge. which isn't too far from Guanyin.
This hard-working, industrious mentality was omnipresent, even during the vacation periods. Quite a shock compared to some of our Taiwanese guests, who were not very social, uncomfortable in social settings, and especially unable to fend for themselves. A gap is growing between those who are used to travel and the others. As surprising as it may seem, we often receive visits from people on a road trip around Taiwan. Mostly locals on motorcycles or scooters. They stopped by the hostel, chatted with other Taiwanese, played board games, shared tea, took countless photos, and created communities of friends made in just a few moments. Teas were fleeting encounters, but they delight their hearts and their Instagram followers. What seemed strange to me was simply normal and rational for the Taiwanese. Where else could they meet other people who share their interests? In hostels, of course. while in Europe we would tend to go to a bar or a party to socialize. What was amazing was that the hostel itself wasn't their destination, it was just a stopover during their day of travel. I remember talking to one of them, who explained that he looked for the best hostel not to spend the night, but to meet people during the day. This overall peaceful and pleasant atmosphere put me in such a state of well-being that I almost forgot my initial apprehensions. We organized discussion table in the evening, where we conversed in English and Mandarin, we watched movies, notably in English and Chinese, and played board games. It was a far cry from the western hostel, where partying and drinking are often the main attractions. Here, it was all about tea, reading, and card games. An atmosphere that might become a bit childish over time, but in this context, it didn't bother me much, as I added a few beers to the mix. Let's not go overboard. Even the music playing in the hostel was mostly in Chinese. rarely international. It was often romantic ballads, which eventually annoyed me, but the quiet life within the hostel perfectly matched this kind of music. The area around Hualien was filled with numerous karaoke bars and a few cafes. While karaoke is very trendy in Taiwan, it's because it sparks true patience. Here, it's quite common to rent a private room for yourself and your friend, add an all-you-can-drink or all-you-can-eat option, and some people spend their evening indulging in beverage and dumplings. Renting a karaoke room for around 10 hours is not unusual. According to several Taiwanese I had the chance to talk to, karaoke can serve as an alternative form of lodging. Hostel prices are noticeably higher than in other Asian countries, excluding Japan and South Korea of course, with an average of 15 euros per night in a dormitory. In contrast to these large karaoke complexes, small, intimate cafes still exist where you can also sing a tune. However, be careful. Not all storefront advertising karaoke are actually places to sing, or are they? Some establishment offering soppy massage, meaning happy ending massages. They are hidden behind flashy facade that suggests karaoke, but once you walk through the door, you find yourself in a bar, A dozen of pairs of testicles stare right at you with surprise, making you feel uncomfortable quickly and urging you to leave. One day, while we were eating, I felt a violent pressure coming from the ground. The glasses started moving on on their own. The ceiling lights flung like pendulums, and the books on the shelves shifted a few centimeters. It lasted two, maybe three seconds at most, just long enough to surprise us. Everyone looked at each other, stunned, without saying a word.
Get out,
Maddy ordered. We went outside and then, nothing. It was the first time. of a much more dramatic heaven that will hit us full force in the days to come.
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Description
I finally arrive in Hualien after spending nearly two weeks traveling in northern Taiwan. I'll be working at a hostel in exchange for accommodation. It's the perfect time to connect with locals, discuss the atmosphere of youth hostels, and explore Taiwanese cinema and its strong identity!
Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.
Transcription
Hello and welcome to this 9th podcast dedicated to Taiwan. After several weeks of traveling, I've arrived in Hualien, on the east coast. I'll be working in a hostel in exchange for accommodation. This is a great opportunity to talk about the atmosphere here and to introduce you to Taiwanese cinema. Enjoy the episode. Keep your wings, le podcast. Chapter 9. A fair exchange. After several weeks of traveling along the northeast coast, I arrive in the small town of Hualien, home to one of the five international ports of the former Formosa. The sun's rays tickle my frail face, and a gentle breeze accompanies me, almost making me forget the significant weight of my two bags, which are beginning to make my back and leg ache. Luckily, my hostel isn't far from the train station on foot, at least that's what I thought. I venture to the left side of the train station, and try to navigate among the many streets. I spot the Yonmen Suetei, a hotel and residential complex. It's hard to miss with its imposing stature and rather surprising geometric shape. Unfortunately for me, I realize that I am on the right side of the station, so I have to turn back. Disappointed because the area seemed rather nice and closely an excellent street restaurant where I gorge myself on rice with shredded chicken. I finally arrive in front of my hostel and introduce myself. Hello, I'm Sébastien, the new helper.
Hi, I'm Nadine.
A young girl responds with a big smile.
I'm the manager of the hostel. We've already finished cleaning today, so invite you to take off the shoes, put on some slippers and follow me. I'll show you a room.
I climb the stairs that lead me to my dorm and I already notice the immaculate cleanliness of this hostel. It's not hard to see. Everything shines, everything exudes cleanliness, everything looks astonishingly spotless. I hadn't missed this characteristic before, but it's even more evident in places with a certain standard. The hotel where I'll be working in exchange for accommodation is part of a fairly reputable chain in Taiwan. The quality of their staff, hygiene and atmosphere are generally their strong points. It wasn't until the next day when I started scrubbing that I realized how much more... meticulous they could be than we are in Belgium. At least I had never seen such a degree of attention to cleaning. We rotated tasks with Lynn and Joyce, two other helpers. While one took care of making the six bed in the six dorms spread across two floors, another cleaned the three bathrooms, four shower and four toilets in the entire building. And the last one vacuumed and mopped the floors with very specific instruction. One sponge for the mirror, one for the sink, one for the toilet, enough to drive you crazy. Trash cans had to be cleaned from the inside out, with the lid wiped meticulously. After scrubbing the shower, we had to wipe down the water droplets on the walls and doors. Only after this routine was complete did we move on to other tasks, each more tedious than the last. Scrubbing the slippers with a brush and disinfectant, cleaning the window, the inside of kitchen drawers, and, to top it off, rewashing all the already sore cutlery, and cleaning the tables, including the legs and the underside of the table. There was no doubt that this place smelled of citrus cleaner from floor to ceiling. The Taiwanese I hung out with were very hygiene conscious, frequently using disinfectant, constantly washing their hands, and taking showers two to three times a day. I am exhausted, I exclaimed at the end of my first day of work.
Ha, yeah, it was indeed a long day.
Lin commented, wiping her sweet soaked bangs from her forehead.
Do you guys want to grab a bite outside?
Joy suggested. Oh, after a shower, why not? Very quickly, despite the presence of other temporary helpers, Lynn, Joyce and I formed a close trio, with Maddy joining us from time to time. Still young, but very professional. She mainly managed the reservation, ensured everything was functioning in the hostel, and helped out when repairs were needed. Despite her studies, she struggled to find a job related to her field.
I've been managing the Soskel Parktime for over a year and a half. I'm able to make money, but not enough to live comfortably. I hope I won't be doing this for the rest of my life.
She told me one morning over a cup of jasmine tea. Lynn and Joyce were both students. Lynn was in the final year of a master's in film studies. Her ultimate dream was to become a film director and showcase Taiwan's potential. Taiwanese cinema, by the way, has a very strong identity. Closely linked to its history, it has always been a creative hub since the Japanese occupation. After the battle between the Chinese and the Japanese, Taiwan was seeded as a trophy to the victors. The Japanese saw Formosa as an opportunity to make propaganda films to show the world the exemplary nature of their colony. It wasn't until World War II, when Taiwan was handed over to Chinese nationalist government, that the cinematic structures were taken over by mainland China. Fiction and documentary film emerged, but the real upheaval occurred in 1949. The Chinese National Party, KMT, was defeated by the communists. The KMT took refuge on the island, establishing the Republic of China in exile. Two million refugees followed the KMT, and state production houses with their staff were relocated to Taiwan. From 1951, propaganda films were produced. announcing the reconquest of China and promoting the economic successes of the KMT in Taiwan. It was exactly during this period that Hong Kong companies began producing various films in a language close to Oklo, spoken at the time by the majority of the local Taiwanese population. It was a resounding success, more popular of course with the locals than the Mandarin propaganda. However, in the 1970s, a law banned the use of different languages in public spaces. From that moment on, Oklo cinema completely faded. Mandarin production expanded favoring three genres, propaganda, once again, kung fu films, and three-room films. Describe it as works that portray sentimental stories in bourgeois settings and reflect the dream of a society that is becoming increasingly industrialized. Since then, the new wave has taken over and gained international recognition, particularly at several renowned festivals, including Cannes, a cinema of which the Taiwanese are particularly proud. Joyce, on the other hand, wanted to become a teacher, and still had a few years ahead of her before completing her studies. This made me wonder, what were all these Taiwanese people doing working in hostels during their vacation? The answer was surprising.
We rarely take vacation because it weighs heavily on our budget. To discover a place we don't know without spending too much, the ideal is to work there in exchange for accommodation. It gives us time to enjoy the city, make new people, and visit beautiful places like the Tarakal Gorge. which isn't too far from Guanyin.
This hard-working, industrious mentality was omnipresent, even during the vacation periods. Quite a shock compared to some of our Taiwanese guests, who were not very social, uncomfortable in social settings, and especially unable to fend for themselves. A gap is growing between those who are used to travel and the others. As surprising as it may seem, we often receive visits from people on a road trip around Taiwan. Mostly locals on motorcycles or scooters. They stopped by the hostel, chatted with other Taiwanese, played board games, shared tea, took countless photos, and created communities of friends made in just a few moments. Teas were fleeting encounters, but they delight their hearts and their Instagram followers. What seemed strange to me was simply normal and rational for the Taiwanese. Where else could they meet other people who share their interests? In hostels, of course. while in Europe we would tend to go to a bar or a party to socialize. What was amazing was that the hostel itself wasn't their destination, it was just a stopover during their day of travel. I remember talking to one of them, who explained that he looked for the best hostel not to spend the night, but to meet people during the day. This overall peaceful and pleasant atmosphere put me in such a state of well-being that I almost forgot my initial apprehensions. We organized discussion table in the evening, where we conversed in English and Mandarin, we watched movies, notably in English and Chinese, and played board games. It was a far cry from the western hostel, where partying and drinking are often the main attractions. Here, it was all about tea, reading, and card games. An atmosphere that might become a bit childish over time, but in this context, it didn't bother me much, as I added a few beers to the mix. Let's not go overboard. Even the music playing in the hostel was mostly in Chinese. rarely international. It was often romantic ballads, which eventually annoyed me, but the quiet life within the hostel perfectly matched this kind of music. The area around Hualien was filled with numerous karaoke bars and a few cafes. While karaoke is very trendy in Taiwan, it's because it sparks true patience. Here, it's quite common to rent a private room for yourself and your friend, add an all-you-can-drink or all-you-can-eat option, and some people spend their evening indulging in beverage and dumplings. Renting a karaoke room for around 10 hours is not unusual. According to several Taiwanese I had the chance to talk to, karaoke can serve as an alternative form of lodging. Hostel prices are noticeably higher than in other Asian countries, excluding Japan and South Korea of course, with an average of 15 euros per night in a dormitory. In contrast to these large karaoke complexes, small, intimate cafes still exist where you can also sing a tune. However, be careful. Not all storefront advertising karaoke are actually places to sing, or are they? Some establishment offering soppy massage, meaning happy ending massages. They are hidden behind flashy facade that suggests karaoke, but once you walk through the door, you find yourself in a bar, A dozen of pairs of testicles stare right at you with surprise, making you feel uncomfortable quickly and urging you to leave. One day, while we were eating, I felt a violent pressure coming from the ground. The glasses started moving on on their own. The ceiling lights flung like pendulums, and the books on the shelves shifted a few centimeters. It lasted two, maybe three seconds at most, just long enough to surprise us. Everyone looked at each other, stunned, without saying a word.
Get out,
Maddy ordered. We went outside and then, nothing. It was the first time. of a much more dramatic heaven that will hit us full force in the days to come.
Description
I finally arrive in Hualien after spending nearly two weeks traveling in northern Taiwan. I'll be working at a hostel in exchange for accommodation. It's the perfect time to connect with locals, discuss the atmosphere of youth hostels, and explore Taiwanese cinema and its strong identity!
Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.
Transcription
Hello and welcome to this 9th podcast dedicated to Taiwan. After several weeks of traveling, I've arrived in Hualien, on the east coast. I'll be working in a hostel in exchange for accommodation. This is a great opportunity to talk about the atmosphere here and to introduce you to Taiwanese cinema. Enjoy the episode. Keep your wings, le podcast. Chapter 9. A fair exchange. After several weeks of traveling along the northeast coast, I arrive in the small town of Hualien, home to one of the five international ports of the former Formosa. The sun's rays tickle my frail face, and a gentle breeze accompanies me, almost making me forget the significant weight of my two bags, which are beginning to make my back and leg ache. Luckily, my hostel isn't far from the train station on foot, at least that's what I thought. I venture to the left side of the train station, and try to navigate among the many streets. I spot the Yonmen Suetei, a hotel and residential complex. It's hard to miss with its imposing stature and rather surprising geometric shape. Unfortunately for me, I realize that I am on the right side of the station, so I have to turn back. Disappointed because the area seemed rather nice and closely an excellent street restaurant where I gorge myself on rice with shredded chicken. I finally arrive in front of my hostel and introduce myself. Hello, I'm Sébastien, the new helper.
Hi, I'm Nadine.
A young girl responds with a big smile.
I'm the manager of the hostel. We've already finished cleaning today, so invite you to take off the shoes, put on some slippers and follow me. I'll show you a room.
I climb the stairs that lead me to my dorm and I already notice the immaculate cleanliness of this hostel. It's not hard to see. Everything shines, everything exudes cleanliness, everything looks astonishingly spotless. I hadn't missed this characteristic before, but it's even more evident in places with a certain standard. The hotel where I'll be working in exchange for accommodation is part of a fairly reputable chain in Taiwan. The quality of their staff, hygiene and atmosphere are generally their strong points. It wasn't until the next day when I started scrubbing that I realized how much more... meticulous they could be than we are in Belgium. At least I had never seen such a degree of attention to cleaning. We rotated tasks with Lynn and Joyce, two other helpers. While one took care of making the six bed in the six dorms spread across two floors, another cleaned the three bathrooms, four shower and four toilets in the entire building. And the last one vacuumed and mopped the floors with very specific instruction. One sponge for the mirror, one for the sink, one for the toilet, enough to drive you crazy. Trash cans had to be cleaned from the inside out, with the lid wiped meticulously. After scrubbing the shower, we had to wipe down the water droplets on the walls and doors. Only after this routine was complete did we move on to other tasks, each more tedious than the last. Scrubbing the slippers with a brush and disinfectant, cleaning the window, the inside of kitchen drawers, and, to top it off, rewashing all the already sore cutlery, and cleaning the tables, including the legs and the underside of the table. There was no doubt that this place smelled of citrus cleaner from floor to ceiling. The Taiwanese I hung out with were very hygiene conscious, frequently using disinfectant, constantly washing their hands, and taking showers two to three times a day. I am exhausted, I exclaimed at the end of my first day of work.
Ha, yeah, it was indeed a long day.
Lin commented, wiping her sweet soaked bangs from her forehead.
Do you guys want to grab a bite outside?
Joy suggested. Oh, after a shower, why not? Very quickly, despite the presence of other temporary helpers, Lynn, Joyce and I formed a close trio, with Maddy joining us from time to time. Still young, but very professional. She mainly managed the reservation, ensured everything was functioning in the hostel, and helped out when repairs were needed. Despite her studies, she struggled to find a job related to her field.
I've been managing the Soskel Parktime for over a year and a half. I'm able to make money, but not enough to live comfortably. I hope I won't be doing this for the rest of my life.
She told me one morning over a cup of jasmine tea. Lynn and Joyce were both students. Lynn was in the final year of a master's in film studies. Her ultimate dream was to become a film director and showcase Taiwan's potential. Taiwanese cinema, by the way, has a very strong identity. Closely linked to its history, it has always been a creative hub since the Japanese occupation. After the battle between the Chinese and the Japanese, Taiwan was seeded as a trophy to the victors. The Japanese saw Formosa as an opportunity to make propaganda films to show the world the exemplary nature of their colony. It wasn't until World War II, when Taiwan was handed over to Chinese nationalist government, that the cinematic structures were taken over by mainland China. Fiction and documentary film emerged, but the real upheaval occurred in 1949. The Chinese National Party, KMT, was defeated by the communists. The KMT took refuge on the island, establishing the Republic of China in exile. Two million refugees followed the KMT, and state production houses with their staff were relocated to Taiwan. From 1951, propaganda films were produced. announcing the reconquest of China and promoting the economic successes of the KMT in Taiwan. It was exactly during this period that Hong Kong companies began producing various films in a language close to Oklo, spoken at the time by the majority of the local Taiwanese population. It was a resounding success, more popular of course with the locals than the Mandarin propaganda. However, in the 1970s, a law banned the use of different languages in public spaces. From that moment on, Oklo cinema completely faded. Mandarin production expanded favoring three genres, propaganda, once again, kung fu films, and three-room films. Describe it as works that portray sentimental stories in bourgeois settings and reflect the dream of a society that is becoming increasingly industrialized. Since then, the new wave has taken over and gained international recognition, particularly at several renowned festivals, including Cannes, a cinema of which the Taiwanese are particularly proud. Joyce, on the other hand, wanted to become a teacher, and still had a few years ahead of her before completing her studies. This made me wonder, what were all these Taiwanese people doing working in hostels during their vacation? The answer was surprising.
We rarely take vacation because it weighs heavily on our budget. To discover a place we don't know without spending too much, the ideal is to work there in exchange for accommodation. It gives us time to enjoy the city, make new people, and visit beautiful places like the Tarakal Gorge. which isn't too far from Guanyin.
This hard-working, industrious mentality was omnipresent, even during the vacation periods. Quite a shock compared to some of our Taiwanese guests, who were not very social, uncomfortable in social settings, and especially unable to fend for themselves. A gap is growing between those who are used to travel and the others. As surprising as it may seem, we often receive visits from people on a road trip around Taiwan. Mostly locals on motorcycles or scooters. They stopped by the hostel, chatted with other Taiwanese, played board games, shared tea, took countless photos, and created communities of friends made in just a few moments. Teas were fleeting encounters, but they delight their hearts and their Instagram followers. What seemed strange to me was simply normal and rational for the Taiwanese. Where else could they meet other people who share their interests? In hostels, of course. while in Europe we would tend to go to a bar or a party to socialize. What was amazing was that the hostel itself wasn't their destination, it was just a stopover during their day of travel. I remember talking to one of them, who explained that he looked for the best hostel not to spend the night, but to meet people during the day. This overall peaceful and pleasant atmosphere put me in such a state of well-being that I almost forgot my initial apprehensions. We organized discussion table in the evening, where we conversed in English and Mandarin, we watched movies, notably in English and Chinese, and played board games. It was a far cry from the western hostel, where partying and drinking are often the main attractions. Here, it was all about tea, reading, and card games. An atmosphere that might become a bit childish over time, but in this context, it didn't bother me much, as I added a few beers to the mix. Let's not go overboard. Even the music playing in the hostel was mostly in Chinese. rarely international. It was often romantic ballads, which eventually annoyed me, but the quiet life within the hostel perfectly matched this kind of music. The area around Hualien was filled with numerous karaoke bars and a few cafes. While karaoke is very trendy in Taiwan, it's because it sparks true patience. Here, it's quite common to rent a private room for yourself and your friend, add an all-you-can-drink or all-you-can-eat option, and some people spend their evening indulging in beverage and dumplings. Renting a karaoke room for around 10 hours is not unusual. According to several Taiwanese I had the chance to talk to, karaoke can serve as an alternative form of lodging. Hostel prices are noticeably higher than in other Asian countries, excluding Japan and South Korea of course, with an average of 15 euros per night in a dormitory. In contrast to these large karaoke complexes, small, intimate cafes still exist where you can also sing a tune. However, be careful. Not all storefront advertising karaoke are actually places to sing, or are they? Some establishment offering soppy massage, meaning happy ending massages. They are hidden behind flashy facade that suggests karaoke, but once you walk through the door, you find yourself in a bar, A dozen of pairs of testicles stare right at you with surprise, making you feel uncomfortable quickly and urging you to leave. One day, while we were eating, I felt a violent pressure coming from the ground. The glasses started moving on on their own. The ceiling lights flung like pendulums, and the books on the shelves shifted a few centimeters. It lasted two, maybe three seconds at most, just long enough to surprise us. Everyone looked at each other, stunned, without saying a word.
Get out,
Maddy ordered. We went outside and then, nothing. It was the first time. of a much more dramatic heaven that will hit us full force in the days to come.
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