AG, my Moroccan neighbor, is moving out. Our landlord took us to eat with her friends and their families at an glamorous upscale restaurant. The foreigners were gently mocked for only being able to eat such tiny portions. The food was top quality, and I was shoveling it into my mouth the entire time (3 hours), because my mandarin is weak and after my apparently impressive personal introduction, I didn't want anyone to know how bad my language abilities actually are.
Aziz and I had a round of beers on the roof last night and I asked him about his impressions of Taiwan.
"It's nothing but eating, all the time," he said, "Only eating. It's very safe from crime, and the people are lovely, but the traffic is like Morocco, especially in the south. But most of all, it's just so much food."
They are all partying downstairs at my landlord's house, eating round two. I'm not going to be able to have anything for at least 12 more hours.
Also, as we chatted last night, I was chopping chili's for a fermented pepper sauce I'm making. I scooped the diced bits into the big honey jar with my left hand, and my hand is still on fire, 12 hours later. It feels like I dipped my hand in fluorosulfuric acid. Actually, I heard that you don't feel that cause it dissolves the nerves or something. Maybe the Gom Jabbar is a better analogy - my hand isn't red or swollen or otherwise visibly affected, but I can feel the skin curling black on that agonized hand, the flesh crisping and dropping away until only charred bones remain. But I won't withdraw my hand.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=18scg5TBIok
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