The main reason most foreigners are in Taiwan is to teach English, either at cram schools (buxiban), or at universities (daxue)--a word which doesn't mean quite the same thing as it does in the anglosphere.  There are, moreover, quite a number of employees of western companies stationed here, as well as independent traders who find Taiwan a convenient base for wheeling and dealing around the Pacific Rim. 

As the holder of a Ph. D., I was "fortunate" enough, relatively speaking, to find a post as assistant professor of English in a vo-tech "university."  The most important thing to know about "teaching" anything here is that east Asian students' mental abilities stop with memorizing vocabulary items for multiple-choice tests: inventing their own discourses strains them, and would go against the grain of oriental societies, even if it didn't.  Therefore, most profs who want to keep their jobs tend to downgrade their class material, and try to create as laid-back  an atmosphere as possible.  This may make classtime more agreeable, but does little or nothing to improve conversation skills.  In an effort to get students to participate in class just a little, many profs ask them to do a book report in front of the rest of the class once a semester, which, for them, is herculean. English professors, for their part, find teaching Sisyphean. 

East Asian students tend to do a little better in reading and writing courses, since these require less spontaneous expression, and the invention of discourses can be done privately.  However, the reading comprehension of Taiwanese students tops out with simplified readers and baby seals articles.  If a professor considerably simplifies his or her material, and assigns limited tasks that are broken down into easy bites, he or she may be able to help them improve sentence and paragraph writing.  The essay, alas, let alone the term paper, are both beyond an east Asian's ken, since none can understand  what a thesis statement is, or systematically support one if understanding were possible. 

I have judged numerous "senior thesis" presentations, which are done by groups of students rather than individuals, of which not a single one had a central argument: each group of students simply superficially summarized others' research findings, insofar as they had troubled to dig any up.  Whenever I acted as a faculty advisor to groups of students preparing their senior theses, I often became exasperated at this tendency.  Upon telling  them that they must assert their own opinion about the topic, then support that opinion with research findings, all I got was a "deer in the headlights" stare.  As a result, I resorted to asking the students to write their own sentences, using particular vocabulary items and grammatical constructions, on the blackboard, as a way to get them to do something participatory.  This worked reasonably well, since it created some give and take during class time, and they valued my corrections.  Moreover, it actually improved their syntax, somewhat, over the course of each semester.

            Teaching English in the orient is, therefore, mainly pro forma, and only those occidentals who can take this in stride, contenting themselves with token lessons and being humourous and unthreatening to their childish charges, in exchange for six two-hour classes a week and sending up to US$1000 home a month, have a prayer of lasting more than a year.  Additionally, these "professors" have plenty of free time for reading, searching for meaningful employment, writing, finding the right continued education for a non-teaching career, etc.  They have enough disposable income to buy things they want, and they can travel during the winter and summer breaks. 

          For those with a more elevated conception of higher education, on the other hand, especially those who expect minimal student participation in class, oriental universities are rougher going.  If you want to play Socrates out there, forget it: Taiwanese students will never have the initiative to speak in class, unless asked  several times (nor do restaurant waitresses when addressed in Mandarin), and, even then, they will minimize their answers.  It can take ages to get them to read a paragraph aloud, write five sentences or even be on the right page of the text being used in a lesson.  Truly, their lack of cognition must be seen to be believed. 

          The buxibans are worse, since they are where parents can dump their children to be rid of them in the evenings and gain some status by telling their neighbors that their kids take special English lessons.  Teachers at these cram schools, usually B. A.'s with student loans to pay off, or who cannot find work in their native lands, or, usually, both, take buxiban teaching even less seriously than "professors."  They also have to work more hours, usually from mid-afternoon until nine at night, but earn less pay.  Still, they have enough to save back home, too, and their shifts are convenient for drinking on weeknights and sleeping it off until noon the next day. 

         There are a few more sophisticated institutes with classes for adults and many teachers, seeking to avoid being babysitters, compete for jobs at them. 

         Openings at these places are announced on many recruiting sites, mainly eslcafe.com, tealit.com, and tefl.com, although there are many more, such as ilovelanguages.com.  Dave's ESL Cafe also has message boards where you can post enquires about life and work in many countries, or read the gripes of those who dwell in them.  If you post a message stating that you are contemplating a move to a country, you will probably receive some contradictory opinions, depending on the temperament and circumstances of the respondent.  The overall sense of the responses, nonetheless, will equally probably help you look before you leap.

                                           Sent by Hal Swindall (01-04-08)