I walked home tonight down the back road. For some reason this guy was blow-torching a pig carcass. I know it's not the greatest picture. You'll just have to take my word for it.

On vacation this week, so I thought I'd head over to Shi Dong Market to have lunch at a sushi place I have been to for take-out, but had never eaten there. It looked so very Japanese; I had been dying to try it. Each time I had gotten take-out sashimi, I'd watch the other patrons eating the most delectable-looking sushi. The sashimi had always been memorable, and a pleasure to eat; I wanted to try their specialties in-house.

The place is a walk-up eatery. All the patrons stand. It's on a corner inside the market - refrigerators on two sides with curved glass, filled with an array of, to me, nameless fish; at least beyond the tuna and salmon I'm familiar with. In front of the glass refrigerator runs a polished wooden rail about five inches wide. Below the rail, on each of the two sides, are five or six eating areas denoted by dark wooden squares the size of a place setting set into a white counter. At the corner is a round porcelain sink to wash your hands; most of the customers eat their sushi with their fingers.

I really had no idea what the proper protocol was to this place. So, I just stood at one of the spots and waited. The chef said something to me in Chinese, and I just nodded. I pulled a beer out of my pocket I had purchased at another stall. I stashed my jacket on a shelf by my knees and found dishes, bowls, and chopsticks there. I went and got a bowl of soup from the pot at the end of the counter.

The two chefs work diligently. They say little, but occasionally explain a little something about each piece to the patrons. They remove a piece of fish from the icy refrigerator, and, using sharp knives, cut and slice it into a tiny specialty. They then reach over the counter and place the sushi on the wooden rail in front of you. I cast surreptitious glances about at the other diners to see how they went about their eating. Most used the soy sauce and wasabi very sparingly, mostly letting the flavor of the fish come through.

There was no menu. There were no prices posted. I had no idea how they even charged you. You just stood and waited for the next piece to come out. And each one was a little treasure. One piece came out textured with tiny knife cuts, another with a slice on the bottom filled with rice. The chef cautioned me not to use soy sauce on one of the pieces; just to eat it plain. At another time he reached over and placed a handful of tiny squid, each just an inch or so big.

At one point he asked the customers a question. They all nodded, so I did, too. He reached in and pulled out a piece of dense, marbled fish, the colors of a candy cane. He placed several slices on two skewers, and pulled out a hand-held blowtorch, searing quickly the outside. He served it on a tiny nodule of rice, with just the edges barely burned black, the rest tender and juicy, the fish infused with the most subtle taste of lemon.

Cones of nori seaweed were passed to the patrons, filled with sea urchin. I have found this to be too "fishy" in the past, but here the flavor was amazing, resting on a base of rice. Another sushi came out with tiny blades of grass on it, what it was I don't know. Another piece of some kind of fish, or some part of a fish, was placed in front of me. No one else used soy sauce, so I didn't either, placing it into my mouth. It had a creamy, but slightly firm texture, and melted in my mouth so softly and with such an incredible flavor I found myself almost closing my eyes. I was in heaven. Scallops, clams, fish so icy it made your teeth hurt - all of it with such incredible fresh and invigorating flavor.

Some patrons began drifting off. Soon it was only me and another guy. My single can of beer had long been empty. The chef placed a final piece in front of me, wiped his hands, and slung a towel over his shoulder; the show was over. I paid my bill, not really even knowing how they went about charging. The price wasn't cheap, but it had been the best sushi experience I had had in my five years here.

Today we saw our first Taiwan baseball game! The Macoto Cobras vs. The President Lions. Glenn organized for a bunch of TAS teachers to attend. Wei-Kay, our fabulous A/V aide, gleefully but cautiously attended as well. He spoke of his bad luck streak: whenever he watched, in person, his favorite team - The Cobras - they would lose. This streak had followed him since childhood.

We met at the stadium at 4:45, for the 5:05 starter. Being advised it was ok, we all brought in coolers and backpacks full of snacks and beer. Nobody cared! As a matter of fact, souvenirs being sold included bottles of Kaoliang, the Taiwanese hard liquor. Later I actually purchased a beer at the snack bar, just to see the price: NT$40, about US$1.20, only a few cents more than it costs in 7-Eleven. I even bought a big bag of fresh guava, cantaloupe, and honeydew melon, for about the same price. I don't think you can buy fruit at American baseball stadiums. Or stinky tofu for that matter.

The Cobras managed to get a fairly solid trouncing, including suffering back-to-back homers in the top of the 6th. Wei-Kay said "I better leave!" and ran off to the bathroom. A runner got on first. Wei-Kay returned quite happy. He left again and soon they managed to get up on the scoreboard with a run! The cobra side of the stands burst into cheers, drumming, and lots of banging of orange cones (fans apparently sit on one side of the stadium or the other, depending on their team). Fan support includes a band, a herd of spectators with plastic cones (two each) that you bang together for cheers, and guys in their own special section waving giant flags at particularly exciting times (I thought it was kind of funny - the giant-flag wavers were IN FRONT of the fans - you probably couldn't see much when they were waving their banners).

One interesting thing (among several!) was that when there was a conference out on the mound, it usually involved not just the pitcher and catcher, but the entire infield. They just kind of gathered on the mound to see what was up. Have a look at the above photo.

I didn't see any rowdy or drunk fans (besides our group - we did a lot of enthusiastic cheering). Even though beers were basically a buck, hard liquor was available, and you could bring in as much alcohol as you wanted, the fans were fine. No fights, no one getting ejected, no one screaming at the ump (ok, maybe a little, again, from our section). Just a cultural difference. I actually didn't see anyone else drinking beer besides us.

The excitement on the field continued, to the point where Wei-Kay remained glued in his seat. The Cobras managed to rack up EIGHT more runs to win 9-6 over the Lions! Wei-Kay's curse was broken! We stomped and cheered every run. A great come-back game! It took us five years to finally catch a game, and seems like we caught the right one!