“Okay, repeat after me,” Lǎoshī stands in the front of the class commanding attention. I sit up a little straighter. “Jīntiān. hěn rè!”

“Jīntiān, hěn rè,” our imitative voices are soft and disorganized. We fall behind one another, each of us trying to understand every single word of Mandarin while attempting to hit the proper tones at the same time. I try to make sense of it all, but my brains are boiling from the heat outside. The streets of Kaohsiung, Taiwan have been brutally hot as of late. I wipe the sweat off my brow and try my best to sit up straighter and concentrate.

“Yes, okay, try again, ” Lǎoshī says, clearly wanting more energy from her students, more heat. “Jīntiān, hěn rè!” Jīntiān..that means today. Something clicks in my mind. Hěn means very. That means that today is rè, but not just rè, but very rè! Alright, so Today it's very much rè. But what is rè?

Okay, I can get this, I tell myself, I just have to focus. I shake my head to try and clear it, but the insane humidity is fogging up my mental capacities.

This time we muster up the volume to go at it collectively as a class. “Jīntiān, hěn rè!” We repeat in almost perfect unison. Lǎoshī smiles and nods her head. She looks pleased with our enthusiasm.

But what does that mean? I think. Hmmm...Today, it is very rè. This fill in the blank game is killing me, it's too hot to think straight. I feel like I'm going nowhere with this.

“Good, much better,” Lǎoshī's voice enters into my muddled thoughts and breaks my concentration. She continues, “So who knows what this mean?”

Wait, I almost have it, I think.

“Hot,” Oudi speaks up. “It means, Today, it is very hot!”

Ding ding ding! The delayed light bulb finally switches on. Of course! Hěn rè indeed...what else could it have meant? After all, today is 34°C, and at 79% humidity it actually feels more like it's 42°C.

Yes, Lǎoshī, I think to myself, you are correct...Jīntiān hěn hěn hěn hěn rè! (Warning: That was very poor Mandarin grammar.)

Lǎoshī proceeds to write the number 35 on the white board. “Zuótiān,” yesterday, “Kaohsiung was 35 degrees Celsius.”

Yes, I know, I think to myself, How can I forget?

Lǎoshī continues as she writes the number 38 on the board, “Zuótiān, Taipei was 38 degrees Celsius.”

Whoa! Sucks for those northerners! I think.

She turns around slowly to look at us and asks, “Do you know what the temperature was in Beijing?” Turning back to the whiteboard she writes 41°C.

Hěn rè! I think. Suddenly, I don't feel so bad for myself anymore.

Before coming to Taiwan I had heard about the brutal heat. I'd called up Gary and Stacey, who studied Mandarin in Tainan City for six months, to ask them what it was like.

“Oh yeah, one more thing,” Gary said, right before hanging up. “The heat is gonna kill you!”

But despite the warnings, I never took the time to really think about the numbers. Even after my arrival in March, I didn't think much of it. “Oh, this isn't too bad,” I said then. I can deal with this, I've been through heat like this before.

“Don't worry, it gets worse,” everyone else told me. “Ah, but anyways, you're from Hawaii, so you're probably used to the heat already, right?” WRONG! Well, to be fair, everyone was right about the first part. But still, they were dead wrong about the last. Yes, it's true, it definitely got hotter. But no, ohhhh no...being from Hawaii did not mean that I was used to this kind of heat.

Back at home there's a song, it goes: 96 degrees, in the shade. REAL HOT...in the shade.

96° Fahrenheit is hěn rè for us Hawaiians. But in Celsius that's just 35°, which has so far been the average in Taiwan. And it's supposed to get even hotter here. That's Strike 1 for Hawaii. Also, Hawaii's humidity averages 40%, compare that to Kaohsiung's recent 79% humidity, which automatically kicks the temp up quite a few notches. Strike 2 for Hawaii. Not to mention the fact that Hawaii gets the trade winds blowing through the islands, cooling it down even more there. Kaohsiung's winds blow hot and humid through the city. Strike 3 for Hawaii, the truth is out.

And yes, folks, the truth is ugly. I hate to break it to everyone else, but the heat in Hawaii is nothing compared to the heat in Taiwan.

But in reality, given all of this mind boiling heat, it is possible to experience brief moments of clarity. There are times when you find yourself sitting in the middle of the day, trying your best to move as little as possible, not wanting to exhaust any more precious energy than is necessary. Without the slightest bit of effort on your part, you can feel beads of sweat pooling up and streaming down your back. Your pores are opened up as if you are in a sauna, only you're just sitting at the windowsill, trying to catch the slightest midday breeze. Your mind is reeling, your thoughts are jumbled together and suddenly the whole universe seems to make sense. Until you realize that this moment of clarity is just a case of heat stroke.

Not to fear though, I've still been surviving alright here in steamy Taiwan. Contrary to what the math in my mind tells me, it is possible for humans to live and exist under these seemingly unbearable conditions.

Having grown up in the shade of tall palm trees swaying in the cool island breeze, I can't help but think that perhaps I'm just too soft for all of this hěn rè business. So I just try my best to look at this sweltering experience as something I can learn from, something that will help me build more character. In fact, I remind myself that many people are enduring even harsher numbers in other parts of the globe, and if they can do it there, than who am I to complain about it here.

So now, whenever I find myself walking down the street sweating profusely in the scorching heat, or whenever I go online and shake my head at the rising numbers, I try my best to remind myself that although it's true, Jīntiān, hěn rè,...at least it isn't as rè here as it is somewhere else. Not yet at least.

And now we'd like to ask: What is hot to you? And what's the hottest temp you've ever been in? What do you do to beat the heat?

It's been about 2 weeks since I started my Mandarin course here in Taiwan. But just getting to that point was a feat in itself. It took me almost 2 months to decide whether or not going to school was the proper route here. After that was decided, than the search for the right campus was on.

I took my time narrowing it down to a few options, things were beginning to come down to the wire. My visitors visa was reaching its 60th day in Taiwan, and I would have to do my run to another country for an extension. But did I want to return as a tourist or as a student?

I had about 5 days left in the country when I finally decided that the best option for now would be to study at the Taipei Language Institute in Kaohsiung. This has been a turning point for my life here in Taiwan.

Some have asked me what is the hardest part of learning Mandarin. Without a doubt, for me at least, it has been the tones. There are four standard tones, five if you count the neutral one. The first, high pitched, is pretty much straightforward. Think robot with a cold.

The other 3 tones, (or 4 counting the neutral tone), can get tricky. Without this turning into Mandarin 101, the 2nd and 3rd tones sound incredibly similar, except the 3rd starts lower and dips slightly before rising. By the way both technically rise, although the rising of the 3rd tone will often times get swallowed based on some vague intuitive based rules. The 4th is written the way the 2nd sounds, and rather than just dropping from a regular tone, you actually start off higher than the high pitched 1st tone, before dropping suddenly to lower than the lowest part of the 3rd tone.

Confused yet? Well get this, although the 5th tone is simply called neutral, its not that simple. The actual pitch of this neutral tone changes, and is determined by the previous tones. It is voiced lower than the ending pitch of 1st, 2nd and 4th, but higher than the ending pitch if preceded by 3rd. As you can imagine, wrapping your mind around just the basics of this may come across as being very complicated.

But after two weeks of straight pronunciation, and being corrected 95% of the time, this tonal system no longer seems as complex as it looks. Honestly. The sound of Mandarin, or Jhongwen as it is referred to here in Taiwan, is actually rather rhythmic and highly intuitive. I'm beginning to not think so much about the rules of sounds and just trying to listen to what really sounds right. And on a positive note: I hear that once you grasp the basic concept of tones, the speaking part is pretty simple. Grammar and sentence structure is rather straightforward, with no real curve balls or questionable rules.

Wow, unless you're a lingo fanatic, I realize that I probably just seriously bored you all with this lecture on Mandarin tones. If you've actually read this far, maybe you're waiting for me to say how I really feel about going back to school again.

Well, so far, I love it!

I feel like I am actually getting something out of it. Sure, it costs a chunk of money, but after the first two weeks, it's definitely money well spent.

Life here has been so easy. There has honestly been hardly any adjustment period. The food is familiar and the people friendly. But the one thing that always weighed heavy on me was my inability to communicate verbally. The majority of Taiwanese are so cool about this that it always seems like no matter what, I've been able to get my point across regardless. But after two months of playing charades with the shopkeepers and waiters, and not even being able to say a simple greeting or introduction to my neighbors, it was all beginning to get old.

I felt like I had come as far as I could in the sign language department. If I was going to make a life here, I would have to get at least a basic grasp of the language, if not for my own well-being, than at least as a courtesy to the people around me who had become familiar with my presence.

Enter the three month long Mandarin classes at T.L.I.

Some $25,000NT and two weeks later, I no longer have to bow my head repeatedly in embarrassment for lack of words. I am beginning to differentiate between the 2nd and 3rd tones, I can compare the freshness of apples to bananas with a shopkeeper, or laoban, I can order green tea, black tea or tea with ice cream, depending on my mood, and I can say thank you, xiexie, and goodbye, zaijian, with semi-decent pronunciation. I look forward to what I have to learn in the upcoming month. I can see for myself that my resources are well spent.

So in case you were wondering how I really feel here...all in all, I can say with honesty, I am loving it.

Oh, and PS: I just bought a moped today. It cost me all of $1000NT, or $31.73USD. This is me...stoked.

And now we ask you: Have you ever tried to learn another language? What made you do this? And what helped you through it?

I wake up in the middle of the night to the sounds of growling coming from the streets below. I rub my eyes, sit up in bed and look out the window, peering eleven floors down, to see a pack of wild dogs roaming the streets, looking for a fight. Oh, the joys of Kaohsiung, I think to myself. I contemplate the possibility of throwing something at the snarling pack, but I realize that eleven floors up is a long way down, and who knows where a random object might land, like on the upturned face of one unsuspecting local. The last thing I need is my own pack of angry Taiwanese ganging up on me, the silly waiguo-ren living all the way up on the top floor. But what am I thinking? The people here in South Taiwan are actually pretty hospitable and laid back. Not to mention the fact that I don't really have anything in my possession I can afford to throw out of a window at 4 am. In any case, I realize that it is way too early for me to try and process such random thoughts of superficial in-consequence, so I shake my head, lie down, and I fall back asleep to the humming sounds of early-morning mopeds and growling street dogs.

Sometimes it feels like I am in an alternate universe, where the buildings and streets vaguely remind me of Hawaii and the people look like the people back home. But the words that I hear are foreign to my ears and the words that I see are indecipherable in my mind. All too often I find myself feeling both mute and illiterate.

But through my inability to communicate in ways that I am familiar with, I find myself having to get creative, speaking with my hands and face, or listening intently with my eyes. I know now that if I can't find it, I can sheepishly motion to the clerk, asking, “Where can I find a toilet bowl plunger? Yes, a toilet plunger.” Or if I don't feel like eating pig knuckle again, a flap of the arms and a loud 'Bok-BOK!' gets me shredded chicken on a scoop of rice. Of course, the lady over the counter tells me, “Ji.” I stare at her blankly, “Umm, Ji?” And then slowly I get it, “Oh, okay...” I nod enthusiastically, “Yeah... ji!” Here in Taiwan it's really true that a smile and a laugh goes a long way. It can even get you an extra piece of sausage on your lunch plate, along with your ji.

There's also those times when I realize I shouldn't presuppose. Like when I passed by a street window filled with roast ducklings and crispy Chinese roast pork. As I walked on, I kept that street corner in mind, and when I went home, I pulled out my Mandarin phrasebook and conquered the words for duck and pork, “Ya” and “Ju”.

I smiled to myself, I was finally ready to speak to the natives. When I went back a few days later, I stepped up to the window and waited for the duck-man to acknowledge me. But when he nodded in my direction, fear took over, so I just reached around the glass, pointing at my items of choice, and said, “Duck and pork.” My mouth was watering hungrily and I was too embarrassed to try and make myself understood. But in clearly pronounced English, the man asked me, “You just want duck and pork?" I blinked. "How about rice?” he said.

And of course, there is that one time when I ordered a bowl of steaming hot shabu-shabu, and just as I dig my chopsticks in to try and find the chunky good stuff at the bottom, I pull out an auspicious looking gelatinous cube, thick and black, like a piece of chocolate jello. My heart sinks, and I go back up to the counter with my handy Mandarin phrasebook, and point at that character that I knew I should have learned how to pronounce before I came here, xue...blood, said in the 4th tone. I smile widely and keep that polite question mark on my face. The lady nods back in confirmation.

But it's moments like this that helps me to go back later with relative confidence. Again I order another bowl of soup, but this time I tell the lady, “Wo bu yao you ju-xue.” She nods, but than points at the piece of fried pork in the picture of the dish I just ordered, “Ni bu yao you ju ma?” It takes me a moment to realize what she's asking me. Than I make a guess, “Okay, well... wo yao you ju,” I say, smiling. “But,” I continue, “Wo bu yao you ju-xue, ji-xue, ya-xue...wo bu yao you xue. ” She nods again and says, “Bu yao xue.”

And what about my sleeping habits now? Well, thankfully the dogs were no longer outside tearing each other to shreds this morning. But I was still shocked awake by the sound of 'Eye of the Tiger' blasting through loudspeakers. I lay there in a deep sleep, only to hear through the thick darkness...”DUNH, pause, Dunh dunh DUNH, pause, Dunh dunh DUNH, pause, Dunh dunh DUUUUUUNH!” I sit up in bed, this time wondering if I'm in a movie running up stairs, or if my mind just decided to start playing a soundtrack to my life. I rub my eyes and look out the window, peering eleven floors down to the streets below. I get up just in time to see a big covered truck barreling down the street, loud speakers blaring. But fortunately for itself, the truck plows off into the distance, moving too fast to be hit by any random objects thrown from a top floor apartment window.

And now we ask: What are some of the first hurdles that you need to overcome when first arriving in a country? How do you deal with these? Comment below and let us know!

When I witnessed the fight while standing in the immigration line, I realized this would be a whole new life. Okay, so it wasn't really a fight, but it was definitely different. What I mean is, it's not everyday that you see a grown man in some kind of official Taiwanese uniform shoving middle aged Japanese women, along with the rest of us disrespectful little 'non-citizens', shouting at us at the top of his lungs in an effort to get us to all stand in line properly. And he wasn't just shoving us, but he was literally herding us with his baton, pushing us as if we were one large mass of madness. Of course, it worked, we lined up like sheep. And if that wasn't enough, the offended Japanese women took their stand against the officer tyrant man, shoving back at him and shouting in their mother tongue. And the gentleman's response? “Sumimasen...sumimasen...,” he said, bowing apologetically while continuing to shove them back roughly, "Sumimasen.” Well, I thought to myself, at least he has the courtesy to apologize to them in their own language.

Rewind a half hour: As our plane touched down onto the tarmac of Taoyuan International Airport, one hour west of the capitol city of Taipei, the first faint glimpse I could get of my new home was smog. And not just gray air, but thick, heavy, almost oppressive looking, the kind that scrapes it's way down your esophagus and clings to your lungs. It's no wonder than that, upon disembarking, more than a few of the locals donned masks, some decoratively patterned and printed, to filter out the thick smog air.

I realize that these first two paragraphs paints our arrival into Taiwan as if we were entering some hazy and depressing country. But this (so far) is not the case. In reality, what few interactions we've had as of yet with the locals has been pleasant and helpful, albeit brisk and efficient. And did I mention the green? Stepping off of the plane, Thuy remarked about how much greenery and life there was around the city. Coming here, I had expected the stereotypical Asian tiger concrete jungle of highrises and clogged streets, and although our gateway city of Taoyuan is not Taipei, I was surprised to see the countless rice paddies squeezed between colorful buildings as we rode down the highway.

And the further south we went, palm trees and bamboo began to dominate the scenery. Even now, as I sit back in my huge bus seat the size of first class airplane seats, and stare out the window, we pass green hills of trees and plant life. I notice too that the smog begins to thin out as we make our way further from Taoyuan.

Our departure from Eko and Thuy was quick and painless. We stepped off the plane, exchanged money, went through immigration, picked up our bags, and Eko helped us buy our bus tickets to Kaohsiung. The bus station is in the airport, which was very easy and convenient. And what of our inappropriately massive amounts of unnecessary luggage? We didn't even get a blink from the the waif thin bus ticketing agent. She whipped our luggage up onto a baggage cart like it was nobody's business, weaving her way through the crowds as she wheeled along with her one of my huge suitcases that must have weighed half her weight.

She directed us to our bus, told the bus driver to watch out for us, showed us all of the nifty first class contraptions that were built into our seats, and then left. But of course, all of our thanks goes to Eko, who really helped us get on our way as quick and seamlessly as possible, before giving us both hugs and waving goodbye. You told us you'd come and visit us down here some day, I'm going to hold you to that promise.
And now here I am, on a Ho Hsing bus en route to the city of Taichung, where we transfer onto another bus, which will eventually take us to our final destination, the southern city of Kaohsiung, Taiwan's second largest metropolis. Arrival time to Kaohsiung? 7 p.m.

But for now, I guess I'll just kick back in my fat lounge-chair like bus seat, have a little snack, and reflect on what few experiences I've had so far here in my new home. And of course, look up every once in a while to look out the window and enjoy the beautiful green.

And now we ask: What are some of your most memorable first impressions? Comment below and let us know!