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By Neil Foster
Most foreigners in Taiwan are aware that this island was once called Formosa--the beautiful. Most foreigners are also aware that Taiwan has undergone a transformation since that time, and that it is unlikely that Taiwan will ever be called 'beautiful' by smitten sailors again. Taiwan now rubs shoulders with other production giants world-wide. It's densely populated, intensely industrialized, heavily polluted and is drawing ever further away from the idyllic island setting it once boasted. This leaves some of us rather bitter.
Don't misunderstand me. I'm not suggesting that the lack of physical beauty in Taiwan is the number one problem for foreigners. Judging by the rants of my friends, the traffic and the language barrier compete for that honor. But most of us come from countries that boast vast natural resources and unique natural beauty. As westerners we've grown to expect trees lining our roads, clean air and a distinct lack of betel nut juice on the sidewalks (come to think of it, most of us would be happy if there were sidewalks). Taiwan falls short in all of these categories. It seems sometimes as if this country is designed to enrage us; to probe deeper and deeper until it eventually finds our Thing.
We all have a Thing. It is that Thing that riles us, that goads us into incandescent rage, incoherent rants and numbing depression. Sexual innuendo and locker-room humor aside, some of us have bigger Things than others. Some of us can handle our Things and some of us can't. Like other things that spring to mind, it is not the size of your Thing, but what you do with it that counts. Without proper management, your Thing can eventually take you down, forcing a slinking departure from this country.
You have a Thing. You might not be aware of it. It might not have been pointed out to you (yet). But rest assured, your Thing is there waiting for the right time to pounce.
The beauty of it all is that you are bigger than your Thing.
Probably the most common Thing is the traffic-Thing. What most foreigners fail to realize while driving in Taiwan is that western materialism is their biggest fault. We focus far too readily on the "me", which gives rise to theories like "my" lane, "my" space, "my" right-of-way. These theories are not applicable in any real sense on Taiwanese streets. There seems to be an unwritten rule that right of way is conferred to the vehicle with the most wheels. Trucks have right of way over everybody, then the little blue trucks, then cars, and finally, scooters and motorcycles. While driving on two wheels we are given dominion over bicycles and pedestrians only. All rules of the road should only be seen as suggestions to be obeyed at the discretion of the driver. In all cases, foreigners should realize that simply sounding the horn trumps any rule of the road.
We also fail to recognize the massive health benefits of driving in Taiwan. A quick five-minute drive will reveal any latent cardio-vascular weaknesses, thoroughly exercise your adrenal glands, and test your reaction time. You'll be more alert, constantly watching every possible entry space into your lane for the arrival of a slow-moving vehicle, and your lungs will be pushed to the limit in the haze of exhaust fumes of the rush-hour traffic. Your driving skills will be tested and honed through constant exposure to emergency situations. For those foreigners who wonder what career they could break into when they return home, I would recommend enduro biking, demolition derby driving and possibly KART racing.
Another popular Thing is the language-Thing. How many times have you gone to a store on a simple errand and failed dismally? For most foreigners, living in Taiwan presents the exhilarating opportunity to be functionally illiterate. How often have you bought a product, only to find out that it was totally different than the one you wanted? My personal favorite was the time I bought a drink at the 7-Eleven; unable to read the label, I thought the picture on the bottle was of a toffee and a mint leaf. Being thirsty, I opened the bottle and (foolishly), took two big gulps before realizing my error. The drink in question was in fact some form of prune tea, spiced with something herbal. To this day, I remember the total shock as something so utterly not mint nor toffee was gulped.
These experiences will stay with us always (sometimes the aftertaste too.) We shouldn't forget that living in Taiwan is gearing us up to properly appreciate going home. Consider the difficulty involved in getting things done: Want to get a leaking faucet fixed in your apartment? Unless you're friends with a plumber, or you have a nice Taiwanese friend who can help, you are in for a serious trial. Back home it means flipping through the yellow pages, placing a call, and explaining the problem. Here, the vast majority of us are forced to rely on the help of others, our co-teachers or bosses. Quite often, what was a 10-minute exercise back home is transformed into a weeklong ordeal of misunderstandings, comic mistranslations and frustration. On the positive side, the sense of accomplishment that comes with getting things right is immeasurable. We all remember the first time we successfully negotiated a food order in Chinese. After 3 pork-laced congee-concoctions, that bowl of just noodles you wanted tastes all the better.
There are of course, those foreigners who decide to rid themselves of the language-Thing. They, myself included, join university courses, constantly bug their co-teachers and get language-exchange partners. (The fact that many language-exchange partners also become bed partners should not detract from the argument that foreigners, even male foreigners, do want to learn Mandarin). Of course, what those students of Mandarin soon discover is that they are in for a long, hard struggle. They discover to their dismay that after three months of lessons, they're stuck in a Chinese version of "See Spot Run", which does very little to remove the congee-concoction from their table, or do anything about that leaking faucet in their bathroom. Many of these students withdraw from lessons, humbled by the vast confusion that is the Mandarin language, and resign themselves to pantomime and inane sound effects to communicate.
Hot on the heels of the language-Thing, are a multitude of complaints that I am going to label the lifestyle-Thing. This catchall category includes everything from a distinct lack of masculine-smelling deodorant to a nagging belief (quite often true), that one can touch all four walls of the bathroom at the same time. What a peculiar challenge to meet in a first-world nation which experiences the devastating summers of Taiwan. Deodorant would seem to be a must for the average male not seeking to advertise his sweat patches from a distance. And yet, until recently, said product was both elusive and reclusive, preferring to hide on the backs of shelves in patently unlikely shops (I once found imported deodorant in a shoe store). The solution here is one of three things: import, hunt or reek (if you're trying the latter, and are losing friends and loved ones, I suggest trying one of the former).
The bathroom-Thing, closely followed by the kitchen-Thing, is a stalwart of this category. Without going into the vagaries of the squat toilet, with the weird pants-on-one-leg-dodge-the-urine dance that comes with it, Taiwanese bathrooms are a visible culture shock to foreigners. Showers that spray water everywhere without the benefit of a curtain, and drains that seem directly linked to open sewers (judging by the smells that creep from them), yet drain so slowly that evaporation remains a key factor in drying your bathroom. The ubiquitous toilet paper bucket in the corner, with its used paper and semi-sentient mold is never a pleasant discovery in a hotel bathroom. And kitchens that by their diminutive size, ensure that cooking is a solitary activity. Also, quite often, bathrooms adjoin kitchens in this country, uniting all aspects of the digestive process.
Lifestyle problems also rear their heads outside of the home, most commonly in our schools. Unless you are one of the lucky few, the chances are that you work as an English teacher in one of the cram schools. Whilst the working hours tend to be low with high pay, a lot of foreigners complain about their schools. Contracts seem sometimes to be akin to the traffic laws, merely suggestions of conduct. Bosses often seem to have only money in mind, more specifically, how to save their own money at the expense of others. This, however, is a two-sided coin. For every school I've heard of that mistreats their foreign staff in some way, I've also heard of a foreigner that has ducked out on a contract, leaving a school high and dry.
The biggest problem most foreigners seem to face is the role of "edutainer". It is not enough to be an awesome teacher. Being a stand-up comic, incredible mime and responsible babysitter are sometimes more important.
These challenges are not unique to Taiwan. Psychopathic traffic, language barriers and strange lifestyle problems exist everywhere that xpats gather. However, we are here. We live in Taiwan, and these problems are definitely ours. We are beset upon by problems from the humid slap in the face that greets every summer arrival, to the puzzlement that accompanies one's first attempt at a squat toilet. Things that are taken for granted back home suddenly become challenges, and events that were rare at home are suddenly commonplace. The beauty of it all is that these cultural differences can make or break you, and the choice is yours. Do you get despondent and frustrated because of the problems of xpat life? Do you get caught up by your Thing?
You can do this, but you don't have to. Find the humor in the situation, bend these problems into learning situations and you can take away from Taiwan a unique perspective on life. I've been here a while, longer than most, shorter than some, and in my experience, the foreigners who remain positive, who revel in the challenges of xpat life, are the ones who stick it out, who enjoy their time here and go home with a positive learning experience beneath their belts. So get out there, date that language exchange partner, take the courses, join the clubs and mingle. Take your Thing out and air it regularly. Just don't let it get the better of you. |
