by a shy Taiwanese girl instructed to purchase our tickets and send us on our way, we entered into the Taipei main bus station. She herded us like cattle towards the ticket counter as I tried to strike up a conversation with her as best I could. Just like that, we stood bewildered with tickets in hand to await the arrival of the bus that would take us to Taichung. Our guide had disappeared into the sea of constant movement. Our last connection with Taipei and our initial home in Taiwan had been irreversibly severed.
The wait was short lived and we barely managed to buy some bottled water before exiting the station to join our bus. Having disposed of our larger pieces of luggage, the four of us proceeded to commence the assent into our royal carriage. Indeed, the interior of the bus was a sight to behold. Jaws dropped and shouts of exclamation echoed through the cabin as we sank into the plush, green leather seats. A remote control lay dormant by the armrest waiting to disclose its secrets. Each seat came with a retractable metal arm attached to a small TV set that the passenger could manipulate at will. A “stewardess” greeted us and distributed drinks after verifying our tickets. “Hey, check this out”, a friend’s voice came from behind. To our surprise, our luxurious voyage was complete with a back massager built right into the seat.
Local managers and staff greeted us two hours later in Taichung. I was ushered into the car of our branch manger, Patricia, a very kind middle-aged woman who would soon be my new superior. As her husband navigated the streets of the third largest city in Taiwan, we became better acquainted. I expressed my interest in learning Mandarin and Patricia was all too eager to teach me a few new expressions. We also discussed the school and what my duties would soon be. We arrived at a local restaurant and were quickly joined by the rest of our group. I was introduced to Julie
Joe, the person who runs operations for this entire region and who actually wrote the scholastic material, and was honored when she decided to sit with Patricia and I. Although she had grown up in Kansas and had lived in Taiwan for the last 18 years, Julie Joe possessed a very bizarre accent. “It’s probably that I’ve spent too much time around Australians”, she replied. When the waitress came she ordered in flawless Mandarin.
Our agenda for the day consisted of the following: finding a suitable apartment, purchasing some bedding, and looking for a bike that would serve as transportation to and from work. Uncertain that I wanted roommates, I first requested to look at some single bedroom apartments. However, we decided to visit a three-bedroom apartment in which two other Hess teachers live a short distance away from the town center. With a park nearby and a lazy irrigation canal gracing the view, it seemed like an ideal location for someone who prefers a peaceful environment to the constant noise of the city. Ros, a girl from Britain, and Justin, a tall guy from Virginia, greeted us at the door with warm smiles and an immediate invitation for me to stay with them. I mentioned I was still looking and they offered to give me a brief tour. Complete with two fifth-floor balconies, a kitchen, some furniture, and a decent bathroom, the apartment was all I could ask for. Impressed by both the area and my potential roommates, I said I would think about it. Patricia and I stepped out to contact someone who could provide us with other options.
A phone call away, the landlord, a grungy-looking man who looked like he chewed a bit too much beetle nut, met us in an alleyway. He pulled up on his pollution-stained scooter and motioned us towards a large doorway. Swiping a token-size key card to gain access to the building, he led us through the lobby and into a forlorn elevator. Eight stories later, we found ourselves in a dimly lit hallway waiting for the man to open the room. The door swung open to a dingy pastel-colored room that seemed almost as inviting as a small prison cell would be under the same circumstances. My immediate reaction proved to be the most accurate even after a thorough inspection of the rest of the area. Covered and caked in grime, the bathroom floor provided a backdrop to the landlord’s expectant gaze. There was no apparent cooking area to speak of and the place gave off an air of loneliness and despair that certainly didn’t appeal to my weary mind or body. I politely conveyed my refusal and asked if the man had any other apartments available. The next three were merely repetitions of the first and by the time we had scoured the recesses of the town for a suitable apartment, I had made up my mind. Patricia alluded to the fact that she already had guessed at my final decision. Back at the teachers’ spacious apartment we announced the news before heading into town to purchase some much-needed items.
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