But I think the lack of sleep was the biggest problem. What’s really funny is that I distinctly remember thinking I had to finish off that orange juice before I fell asleep, but I couldn’t quite do it…

I saw the lights of Japan from the plane. While that meant there was still some time left in the air, it was oddly comforting to see any sign of civilization at all. I think I probably did my best to concentrate on the fact that the sun would inevitably be up soon as well. They served coffee and some semblance of breakfast around that time, too. When I wasn’t watching Lost in Translation, there was also an oft-repeated ad for in-flight gifts you could buy for people who were meeting you at the gate. If only there were any of those! But then, I did come here because I wanted a total break with the past, didn’t I? There was also the mandatory filling out of immigration tickets, where I recall listing my occupation as “teacher” for the first time. That, of course, ushered in a reminder that I did have a job to do here, and I’d have to learn how to do it!

At long last, there was the landing. That’s often my least favorite part of the flight; but I was more than a little bit happy to see it this time! Touch down at last, in Asia for the very first time. Wow! Then and now, seeing that blue neon “C.K.S. INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT” sign for the very first time is another of the most iconic images of the journey. And it’s also one of the most beautiful ones.

Of course, we couldn’t get off the plane immediately. But it was close, so close! I certainly do remember the walk off the plane and into the airport at last. Then there was the fascinating walk down the hall with those oddball ads in Chinese and English alike. Somewhere along the line I was supposed to be checked for SARS, but somehow I slipped through that net without meaning to – I simply realized a ways down the line that I hadn’t stopped where I was supposed to, and nobody had stopped me.

Then there was the nice long wait at customs. I was painfully aware that I could be sent right back to America for some stupid reason, or none at all. Once again, I found myself reflecting on the why and how of my ending up standing in this line in this strange country at 5:00 or so in the morning. Most peculiar, Mama. Strange days indeed. For all my many non-American friends, I’d never known anyone from Taiwan. Now it was my life, for the moment anyhow.

Of course my paranoia was unfounded and I was welcomed into Taiwan with a nice red and blue stamp on my visitor visa (the work one still being on the way). It was still a long way down to the baggage claim, but surprisingly I had no trouble following the signs there. Having been one of the few non-Taiwanese citizens on the plane, I had taken much longer to get through immigration than most of the others, and I arrived at the baggage claim to find my bags among the few still unclaimed, sitting alongside the cart.

A pushcart – just like the one back in Baltimore – presented itself out of somewhere for free, and soon I had the six bags loaded and ready for easy transport. David H had given me a book about life in Taiwan as a going away present, and when I finally got to Longtan two weeks later I would read that those carts were considered the worst in Asia. Maybe so (I later found out the ones in Manila were worse anyhow), but they certainly were a beautiful sight at that sleepy moment!

Following the general flow of people, I found my way to the meet and greet area by the taxis. There stood a driver with my name and Keltie’s on a handmade sign. My first name was misspelled – “Debbid” – and so I thought Keltie’s probably was too, having never heard that name before. But no, I soon learned that that gal in the yellow sweatsuit I’d seen back in Anchorage did indeed spell her name that way. Being brand new in Taiwan, it hadn’t occurred to me that Hess would hire a driver who didn’t speak English. (I think I had expected him to be a Hess employee, actually.) So I made the mistake of trying to talk to him a couple of times. It didn’t take long to realize he didn’t understand me, but did realize that I was “Debbid”. I also remembered somewhat amusedly that my Japanese flatmate back in New Haven, Tohru, also pronounced my name that way, though he didn’t spell it that way.

Keltie was behind me in the immigration line, so I had time to go to the currency exchange and change most of my American dollars for Taiwanese ones. When I got back to the driver, I think Keltie was there. She definitely arrived not long afterward, anyway, and we were on our way to the end – for now – of the incredible journey.
Keltie was from Nova Scotia. I was pretty happy to have a fellow traveler from so close to home when I was as far away from home as I had ever been in my life. She was much younger, but I’d known enough to expect there’d be some of that. The sun was coming up over the smoggy suburbs of Taipei, and my senses were alive despite the jetlag with the sheer exoticness of it all. Temples, buildings, even the backwards swastikas which couldn’t help but be a bit shocking that first time…I was on fire! Keltie and I also kept up the small talk pretty well despite being tired. But mostly I was just relieved to see the sunlight.

The First Hotel was, well, a hotel. Some things look about the same all over the world. The driver very kindly moved all of our luggage into the lobby for us, something for which I was awfully grateful after the long trip and the memory of what I’d had to do with those damn bags back in DC. Then the driver was off. I didn’t know yet about tipping in Taiwan (generally it’s not done), so I don’t know how much awkwardness there may have been over that. I think I may have gestured to my wallet and had him gesture “not necessary” in return, but I can’t recall with any certainty.

The rooms weren’t ready yet. Not a nice surprise, but I was, of course, alive with curiosity about this brand new country! Back in DC, Riki had a Taiwanese-American friend whom I had met briefly the week before, and who had told me about how Seven-Elevens were absolutely everywhere in Taiwan. Sure enough, there was one just across the street from the hotel, and Keltie and I made our way over there to buy some cheap breakfast. Ah, the smell of tea eggs for the first time ever! They actually tasted great, but the smell was another matter entirely. There was also the first incidence of the clerks saying “welcome” in Chinese every time you came in…it sounded like “Good morning” in English to me, and for the first few times I thought that was what they said.

We also both bought phone cards. I found a pay phone around the corner from the hotel entrance and called Trina, but she wasn’t home. So I called Mom and Dad, who were home. I didn’t have a lot to say, except that the trip was a success. It felt good to know somebody back home knew where I was, anyway. Then it was back to the lobby and waiting for the rooms to open up. I found an English expat magazine of some kind, and can still recall reading about the experiences of Westerners in Taiwan over the holidays and what they did. It certainly sounded like a wonderful lifestyle! Any self-doubt about what I’d gotten myself into was receding rapidly by then.

With time still crawling by before the rooms would be available, I found myself out on the sidewalk for “fresh” air a few times as well. Yet another image etched forever on my mind: watching commuters racing by on their scooters on the way to work. It was just another day for them; but for me it was the beginning of one of my greatest adventures ever! But I was ready for sleep all the same, and that was several hours away yet.