The odds were against me. Besides the attractive young lady now making her way towards the first class ticket counter, I was the only Western in an Asian sea of unfamiliar faces. I snuck glances at my fellow passengers as we slowly inched toward the finish line and weighing scale; that all too infamous plate of smooth metal that would determine our monetary fate.
With boarding pass in hand, I made my way through security and towards the sole restaurant still open at that late hour. One last Mexican meal would suffice before crossing the International Date Line and joining the ranks of ESL teachers seeking employment in Taiwan.
The lady who greeted me at the counter was shy, yet assertive. From her accent and color of skin, I guessed at her origins. We struck up a brief conversation and my assumptions proved to be correct. She was Ethiopian. I mentioned I had recently passed through Addis Ababa and how much I had enjoyed Watt and other Ethiopian dishes. This seemed to please her and I managed to provoke a grin. “Do you miss it?” “Yes, of course”, she replied without hesitation.
Usually the AC on planes reduces me to a chattering specter huddled beneath layers of blankets and opened sweaters. On the contrary, this voyage made it difficult to sleep as hot flashes and lack of recirculating air plagued the eleven-hour flight. I had hoped to sit by a sociable Taiwanese person who would be willing to tutor me in Mandarin as the hours ticked by. My failed attempts at communication with my neighbor led me to believe this was not the case. The gentleman was from Vietnam and had been visiting relatives in Seattle for some time. Through one-word declarations and energetic head nodding, I gathered he was a teacher of some sort back in his native country. His wife smiled at our linguistic conundrum from her vantage point in the window seat.
Despite the uncomfortable seat and unpleasant temperature, sleep finally engulfed my weary body albeit for intermittent periods of time. Between wakefulness and unconsciousness, I managed to leaf through the latest edition of “The China Post”, a Taiwanese newspaper printed in English. Apparently a financial scandal involving the former president had dominated the news in recent days. “Bribes”, “overseas bank accounts”, and “allegations” were buzzwords in the latest chapter of Asian corruption.
Breakfast came in the form of what the stewardess referred to as “porridge”. The mixture of rice, fish, shredded ginger, green onions, and a ramen like pack of tuna seasoning redefined my idea of hot cereal. Nothing would be complete without the small carton of soymilk that occupied the left-hand portion of the tray. I imitated those around me with the words “xie, xie” as I handed my empty tray to the polite air-hostess.
At customs I waited patiently in line to receive the Taiwanese government’s stamp of approval. Shortly after joining the queue, I noticed a young looking American wearing shorts and toting a large backpack standing one lane over. As the scene unfolded, I watched dumbstruck as the man addressed a security guard in flawless Mandarin and proceeded to advance to the front of the line. Perhaps one day I, too, could reach such level of proficiency, I thought. At least there’s nothing wrong with hoping.
My first priority after locating my luggage was to exchange dollars for dollars, American for Taiwanese. The moneylender nonchalantly watched as a small contraption with metal pinchers counted out the appropriate bills in what sounded like a gust of wind. With the wad of cash firmly secured in my pocket, I stepped through the sliding glass doors to a world of eager onlookers. Taped to a large pole, was a sign bearing my name. My eyes locked with a man nearby as I pointed insistently to the piece of paper indicating that it and me were one and the same. He grabbed my luggage and my greeting in Mandarin was followed by a slew of indistinguishable words that I understood as “Do you speak Chinese?” I chuckled and shook my head. His English was just as poor as my Mandarin and so we exited the terminal in an understandable silence.
Humid air and the honking of horns greeted us outside. The chauffeur signaled for me to wait on the sidewalk while he went to find the car. Taxis and luxury vehicles with tinted windows criss-crossed their way to the curb to pick up weary passengers. An Australian couple joined me as I wondered if I would be able to recognize my contact when he pulled up. Luckily my brief moment of uncertainty gave way to recognition as the man stepped out of a Mercedes-Benz and gestured towards the backseat.
We merged on to the wide freeway while I sank ever deeper into the plush, leather seats. A crisply folded newspaper and an unopened bottle of water sat in the pouch behind the seat in front of me. So this is what a businessman must feel like, I mused. Waves of cool air bombarded my face as I took stock of my surroundings. Taipei was a short drive from the airport and so I spent the time watching the countryside go by. Large shipping containers were a prelude to apartment buildings and factories, whose prominence was marked by the billows of smoke escaping into the morning air. Lush vegetation interrupted by colorful pagodas gave a much-needed relief from the industrial sector. On the left loomed an enormous building protected by an elaborate gate. As I would discover later, this is the fabled National Palace Museum.Downtown Taipei was anti-climactic in part due to the earliness of the hour and the fact that it was Sunday. The street was nearly void of pedestrians. Enormous billboards with Chinese characters advertising products and businesses lined the main throughway. We pulled in front of the Golden China Hotel and I was obliged to part ways with my silent companion. At the desk I was told that check-in must wait until 12:00pm. In the meantime, the desk worker encouraged, I could explore the city. I grabbed a toothbrush and toothpaste from my engorged bag and went in search of the restroom. My inquiry was rewarded with a new vocabulary word that should prove to be useful: “Si sou jien”.
Back in the lobby I made the acquaintance of two other new arrivals, an American guy from Illinois and a Canadian girl whose family is Cantonese. After securing our baggage and leaving it in capable hands, we decided to explore a bit of the city. A nearby temple had caught our eyes earlier and so we headed back in the direction of the freeway. Stone dragons and Chinese engravings decorated the roofs and pillars. Some early morning worshippers gathered around a cauldron to offer incense to the ancestors while others tossed wooden objects to the ground to determine their lot in life. Platters of mangoes and rice offered as an offering to the gods occupied the high tables in the courtyard. Dressed in blue smocks, old and young alike sat at prayer benches reciting verses from a holy book open in front of them. We observed the religious proceedings a little while longer before continuing our exploration of the capital.
A local market under a busy bridge provided us with some sustenance. I managed to buy a bunch of bananas for the equivalent of $1.00. The colorful array of distinct fruits and vegetables made me excited for future culinary experimentation. After being follow by a stray dog and attracting stares from a local gang of moped riders, we made our way to a park indicated on the map we had taken from the hotel. Abandoned railroad ties created a zigzag path through the cut grass. Although we were eager to press on, the temperature had increased exponentially since our departure and we were in need of finding shelter from the heat. Finally after many failed attempts at finding an open shop, we located a promising coffee shop. The rest of the morning was spent discussing our backgrounds and goals for the year.
A hot shower wasn’t enough to revive me from inevitable jet lag. Although my stomach was communicating its immediate needs to me, sleep was a more pressing matter. Two and a half hours later I awoke groggy and motivated to find some food. The rains came down and the floods came up. Outside the sky was pouring out buckets of water as people hustled to and fro wearing ponchos and holding umbrellas. Luckily, the hotel had some available umbrellas for use and I borrowed one before facing the tempest. Monsoon season is evidently in full swing.
