I nearly forgot to write about this little adventure. An Irish colleague (or Northern Irish, I guess) invited several of us to her place in Taoyuen last Saturday for a belated St. Patrick's day fest. For reasons that aren't important, I ended up traveling there on my own. Now traveling in Taiwan is an adventure unto itself even before you get where you're going; but it really isn't too bad as long as you get across the language barrier long enough to tell a cab driver where you want to go.
It took me two tries to make it past that first step on Saturday.
The first driver took me to the gates of an apartment complex somewhere I'd never even seen before on the outskirts of my town, Longtan. He was convinced that he'd taken me exactly where I wanted to go, but when I didn't get out, he eventually realized that he hadn't. I think he probably asked me what I had said, but of course all I could say was "Taoyuen," again and again. Apparently it didn't occur to him that I meant the city. I'm guessing the apartments he took me to were called Taoyuen Village or something like that. Kind of like DC's Cleveland Park, which is at least a thousand kilometers from Cleveland, or New York's Greenwich Village, which is near Greenwich, Connecticut but five time zones away from Greenwich, England.
But I digress. When I couldn't get my point across, the driver took me back to downtown Longtan, just across the street from where he'd picked me up. I begrudgingly gave him the money I'd wasted on the ride, got out of the cab and planned to head home. I got as far as calling the friend who'd invited me on my cell phone to tell her I wasn't going to be coming after all. But the thought of a pleasant evening with half a dozen friends and plenty of liquid refreshments versus another night on the couch with nothing but a novel to keep me occupied was enough to get me to try another cab.
This time, I got to Taoyuen without much trouble. My destination was just off the main drag, so when we got to the main drag, I made a 50-50 decision and asked the driver to turn right. Soon enough, I discovered that I should have told her to turn left. Erg. Well, my friend had said to look for a McDonalds and then turn left at that corner, so I got out at the first golden arches I saw, only to find they weren't on a corner! This is when cell phones really are your friend, like it or not. Another call confirmed that I was walking in the right direction, only I would later find out that I wasn't really.
After going for several more blocks and reaching the outskirts of town, I called again to check on my location. I was outside the hospital just then, I told my friends. "Hospital? Where?" Oops. No problem, they said, just stay where you are and we'll come after you in a cab. I waited on the corner for around ten minutes, not long at all but it seemed like forever under the circumstances. Then, another call.
"Dave. Are you by the hospital now?"
"Yep, I'm on the main road just up from the hospital."
"Okay, I'm at the 7-11 there. Come meet me there."
Now, one of the first things anyone will tell you on your arrival in Taiwan is that you should never use 7-11's as landmarks, because they're more ubiquitous than Starbucks in DC. I had heard this myself exactly a month beforehand, but hey, I could actually see this particular 7-11! How hard could it be in this case?
Pretty hard. "Edith? I'm here."
"Where?"
"Right outside the 7-11."
"I don't see you."
"I don't see you either." So there were either two hospitals or two 7-11's. After comparing landmarks, we concluded that there were two different hospitals, only we later discovered that we were in fact at two different 7-11's at the same hospital. Anyway, she and the other members of the search-party got back in the cab. Just a few minutes later came another call.
"Okay, Dave? Got an idea. Go into the 7-11 and give your phone to the clerk. We'll have the cab driver get directions from her."
"Great idea! Will do."
I went inside and found a clerk and several customers. Now, the Taiwanese in general are very good at non-verbal communication. I suspect this has something to do with the sheer difficulty of learning to speak Chinese and the fact that they can usually tell by looking at you whether or not you can speak it. This, however, was not my night on that front either. I tried to hand the phone to the clerk, but she just backed away a bit and shrugged her shoulders at me like I was from Mars. I gestured a few more times and even tried saying "I need directions," in case she spoke English (some store clerks do!). Nothing. Then I tried the customers and got basically the same thing. Finally, one of them understood and took the phone.
"Neihao?" he said.
Apparently, the other phone hadn't been handed to the cab driver just yet, because the answer came in English and he shook his head and handed the phone back to me. More frustrated than ever, I took the phone back, only to find someone talking away in Chinese on the other end. Our timing was off by perhaps two seconds!!
Cursing up a storm, and trying not to think about what the people in the store must have thought of me, I went back outside shouting into the phone. But before they could pass it back to anyone who would understand me, the line went dead. Edith's minutes had run out, apparently.
So there I was, out in the hospital courtyard, feeling wound up tighter than a corkscrew and thinking someone was probably going to send the men in white coats after me. I made up my mind to give the others five more minutes to find me, then I would catch the first cab I could find back to Longtan.
But, as the fates would have it, the very next cab that came by was the rescue party! I was not in a very festive mood at that point, which is too bad since the others were so delighted to see me, but I did my best not to take it out on them. They had, after all, done all they could to help out! All the way home in the cab, there were stories all around about how everyone had been through the same sort of thing and how I'd be laughing about it all in no time.
They were right. A few hours in a pleasantly dry and warm apartment with the din of traffic outside and candles and Dylan on the stereo inside - not to mention three glasses of whiskey and several more travel horror stories - and I was all smiles once again. "You should've seen me in the 7-11, it was a hoot!" Such are the adventures of the expat, I guess, and really, it's all part of why I came here. But trust me on not using 7-11s as landmarks!
Thanks again, Edith!
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