Special to the Kemptville Advance
November 2005
When ex-patriots
grow tired of standing in line at the movie theatre on a Saturday evening with
the other four million residents of Taipei, it’s time to try something new.
Recently, I went fishing for prawns (large shrimp) with a bunch of friends, and
it was quite an experience. I’m not talking about heading to the seaside with
your own bucket of bait and a rod, either. There is an entire district of
catch-your-own prawn restaurants in the riverside area of Taipei, called Neihu.
The restaurants are brightly painted warehouses, decorated with fairy lights
and furnished with picnic tables covered in plastic tablecloths. At one end of
the facility is a large indoor pool, surrounded by plastic lawn chairs. This
‘sport’ can be enjoyed during any weather, as it is indoors. It is particularly
popular on rainy days (which describes most of the Taipei winter), so get there
early to avoid frustration.
1. Direct your taxi to the last
prawn-fishing restaurant in the lineup along the river. Most people don’t have
the patience to go all the way to the end of the line, so that one is the least
populated. Smaller people population equals larger prawn population.
2. Pay for a one-hour rental of a fishing
rod, two hooks and a Styrofoam tray covered in little bits of slimy purple
organ meat. Don’t turn up your nose; the female attendant is watching you for a
reaction. Note her outfit. Only in Taiwan do fish market vendors wear stiletto
heels and false eyelashes.
3. Take a look around. Where is the supply
of live prawns kept? Sit at the side of the pool that is closest to this spot.
When it is time to replenish the prawn pool (they do this once per hour), the
attendant will dump his crate in at the point of easiest access. If you are
brave, you will be able to pick the stunned prawns right off the surface of the
water. It takes the sport out of the fishing, some may argue, but it is
satisfying just the same. A word of warning: these creatures still have their
long pincers and they know how to use them. Grab a net and keep it at the
ready.
4. Once you have chosen your spot, ensure
that your squat plastic lawn chair is fully functional before you put all your
weight on it. More than one unfortunate fisherman has fallen into the drink in
this manner. And at the risk of sounding repetitive, those prawns still have
their long pincers and they know how to use them.
5. OK. Sitting down (probably pretty close
to a local person on either side of you), extend your rod straight up in the
air. Carefully unhook the extremely tiny hooks from the spongy handle of the
rod and unwind the line from around the pole. Without hooking yourself (this
will be difficult to avoid, as the hooks are only the size of an eyelash), put
a minute amount of bait on each of the two hooks. Cultural note: If a local
person offers you some of his homemade bait, politely decline it. He is merely
trying to foil your fishing attempts for his own satisfaction. The bait he is
offering is probably not only inferior but most likely offensive to the prawns.
Many of the locals, you will find, seem to thoroughly enjoy having outsiders at
their favourite fishing hole: they are very welcoming and appear to be helpful,
but when you mess up, they laugh out loud. Just grin and bear the fact that you
are part of the evening’s entertainment.
6. Time to fish. Carefully launch your
line and bobber out over the centre of the water. Or, if there are too many
rods already fishing the centre, allow your line to fish along the side of the
pool where some prawns may be congregating, out of curiosity for their comrades
who have already been enslaved in the nets hanging there.
7. Sit quietly and watch your bobber
carefully. It will not be tugged; it will slowly appear to drift off to one
side. When it does this, ignore the advice of your oh-so-helpful fellow
fishermen who advise you to either wait ten seconds or to immediately yank the
thing out of the water. Neither extreme is effective. Carefully and slowly lift
the unsuspecting, nibbling prawn from the water.
8. Bring your catch to the side of the
pool. Lower him to the floor and carefully grab him about the body, remaining
wary of the waving pincers. If you happen to be dating a local girl, she will
probably offer to rip those nasty pincers right off of him for you. These girls
are not averse to this kind of primitive behaviour, which can be particularly
helpful later when it is time to skewer the live prawns and roast them alive
over a barbecue. (This is not meant to be a criticism of Taiwanese people. It
is merely an observation.) Quite a contrast from back home, where many people
have decided that they won’t eat lobsters if they haven’t been put to sleep
with flash-freezing before boiling. Personally, I prefer to have my prawns
prepared by restaurant staff in the kitchen, where the method of cooking, I am
told, is considerably more humane.
9. Place your six to eight inch prawn
carefully into your net, and return the net to its hanging place at the side of
the pool. Ensure that the prawn is below the water level but the net mouth is
above water level, or he may escape to freedom once again.
10. Repeat.
11. Animal activist beware: China, at the
best of times, is not the place for you. And even in Taiwan, many local cooking
practices, as well as the treatment of animals in general, will be disturbing
and upsetting to you. This is one of the aspects of Asian culture that many
foreigners find most difficult to accept.
12. Enjoy your barbecued prawn. When in Rome...
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