Leave a sinking ship behind?

When I first came to Taiwan, I fully expected the Western community here to be "an intentionally lost Lost Generation" like the one reportedly found in that book, Prague. (I say "reportedly" because I haven't read the book. It sounds like the sort of story I'd really enjoy, but I think it might also make me feel really depressed for having just missed the boat on the big early '90s expat wave in Eastern Europe. But I digress.) But it wasn't, and isn't. Most other Americans, Canadians, etc. whom I've met here are a lot like me: just interested in seeing the world as something other than a tourist, expanding our experiences, paying off debts, and making a living outside the rat race. A few of them are even trained ESL teachers - imagine that!

It didn't take me long at all to learn as much: I pretty much had it figured out after a few days of our training back in February. While the reality is more mundane than what I expected, I think it's probably better this way. It's easy to romanticize Paris In The Twenties, after all, but they say that time and place didn't earn its capitalized title until A Moveable Feast came out 40 years later - and, in the interim, its author stuck a shotgun down his throat. So much for the golden era. Anyhow, meeting all those fellow twenty- and thirtysomethings (and especially discovering that there were quite a few of us in the latter category) with their feet just as firmly on the ground as my own was a nice surprise, and it was great getting to know them. If you're a newcomer to the blog, see here for some of my past thoughts on that pleasant matter.

A bit less than seven months later, at least half of my training colleagues have left.

A few of them are still in Taiwan and working for other schools, but quite a few took off entirely. Just last week, my best friend from training joined that club. This has me rather sad, obviously. Among several other things, she was one of the first three fellow expats I met here on my very first morning in the country. The other two have been gone since summer, so she was my last link to the first chapter of my story. I haven't yet heard the whole story on why she's going home, but I had an experience of my own this week that gave me a clue - and also illustrated for me why so many of our friends have already taken off.

I recieved some welcome and very helpful advice from my branch director on how to improve my performance as a kindy teacher. The catch is that I received it in the form of a written warning, which wasn't even really presented as such, and it was in response to my doing things no one had told me were against policy until now (i.e. encouraging the kids to read when I was supposed to let them play and/or vice versa). The episode will more than likely make me a better teacher, because as I said, much of the advice was very good; but the way it was handed down was seriously out of line in my opinion.

There is good news. My job is in no immediate jeopardy, my performance appraisal with the older kids was about as good as could be, and there are plenty of other teaching gigs in the area - quite a few of which pay better anyhow. Still, for the first time in seven months, I'm feeling less than happy about my situation. It's not a welcome change. I had felt a certain loyalty to my company because, although quite a few colleagues have had bad experiences with it, the whole experience had been very good for me up to now. It still isn't too bad, but this week, combined with the sheer number of ex- colleagues I have, is enough to make me think seriously about alternatives. Sure, it's just one more year, but that can be a long time under conditions like these. It's probably just as well that I don't get too complacent anyhow, given what I've seen with my friends.

Faye, if you read this, thanks for the memories! You have my e-mail address, so don't be shy.