Dashboard Confessional: Out of Order

To preface this story, I will tell you that the dashboard on my scooter recently stopped working completely.  Prior to a couple weeks ago, at least the gas meter worked, even if the speedometer and oil gauge did not.  So now I'm running totally on memory.  Recipe for disaster.

Anyway, last night Mary Ann and I went to a going away party for a couple American teachers we're friends with at a nearby bowling alley/pool hall/batting bage/arcade wonderland.  It was a pretty fun time, especially when I housed everyone at arcade-style basketball (think MA's).  Just about everywhere here is BYOB, so I was reasonably shwasted by the time we left, and by the time we left the after-party at another teacher's nearby house I was also hashed.

It was around 3:30am, just after  leaving the 24-hour McDonald's, that disaster struck.  In the middle of the empty road our scooter shuts off without even a sputter.
Mary Ann: "Greg, when was the last time you filled this thing up?".
Me: "Fuck."

We ditched the scooter and got home via cab at 4am.  Today we scouted out the most direct route to the nearest gas station and it was time for me to start a pushin'.  It's pretty hard for me to stand out more than I usually do here, being white and not a midget, but the white boy wheeling a dead scooter like a push cart was bringing the yucks today.  One of the stranger things I've had to get used to here is how Taiwanese people will just continue to stare at me even while I am staring back at them.  Cultural differences are disconcerting.

The process of getting the scooter to the gas station actually went about as smoothly as could be hoped for, although there was one scary part of the journey where I had to go through this tunnel-like underpass that reminded me of the mineshaft scenes from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.  Fortunately, no monkey brains were spilled en route.

Essay Contest

Two weeks ago on a Thursday evening, my boss approached Mary Ann and I asking us if we'd like to enter an essay contest for foreigner teachers in which we could win some money.  $5000 NT for first place, $4000 NT for second, on so on down to fifth place.  Since $5000 NT is only equal to 150 American dollars, we responded with feigned interest and excitement. 

The weekend came and went with no essay writing accomplished.  Come Tuesday night, we'd both given up on the idea of even attempting to write essays on account of laziness and being out of writing practice.  Within five minutes of arriving at work on Wednesday the head teacher comes to me asking for my speech.  It took a couple of minutes for Mary Ann and I to figure out that she was asking for my essay since this teacher's English isn't the best.  So I found myself in a bit of a bind.  Apparently my school was actually expecting us to enter at least one essay into this contest, even though our boss had phrased it like an optional kind of thing.  Bitches.  Chances are that they're just hoping I'll win so they can brag to parents that they have such smart teachers and get more students.

I made up an excuse, telling them that I had it on my computer at home and would e-mail it when I got home.  Of course, I hadn't done a thing up to that point.  So an hour after I got home that night, I sent out this 1,000 word literary gem.  It responds to the prompt, "Transnational working and living experiences in Taiwan".  Some of it is definitely wishy-washy drivel, so chew the meat of it and spit out the gristle. 

Taiwan Adventure

    

     Halfway home on the road from Taroko Gorge, the thought really hit me that I have never done anything like this, ever.  Such a realization rarely occurs in an average person’s life, and has rarely occurred in my own.  Being only twenty two years old, my life experiences almost exclusively have involved my parents, home, schools, or friends.  Almost nothing from my past can be accurately described as very new or unfamiliar.  I suppose I knew that coming to Taiwan would be very different from anything I had done before, but I certainly did not understand the extent to which that notion would prove true.  The mundane and the everyday, like even watching television or going to a restaurant, becomes strange and new in the adventure that is Taiwan.

     Yet after being in Formosa for nearly half a year now, it also seems to me that I have become somewhat accustomed to all the new and strange things that surround me daily.  I am no longer nervous that I have improperly sorted my waste when I throw my trash bags into the jingling garbage trucks alongside my neighbors.  I do not hold my breath while driving my scooter through the crowded Yilan night market in search of scallion pancakes.  Walking into a classroom full of students does not make my stomach tie into knots anymore.  It seems that after initially being bombarded with a million new things and people when I first got to Taiwan, I have quickly grown accustomed to newness.  Now, getting lost on a Sunday afternoon scooting around obscure parts of Yilan and Luodong does not make me feel worried and anxious.  Having learned to accept and deal with newness, getting lost has become a fun game instead of a nightmare. 

     Still, there have been some moments of overwhelming difference from my home in America that I cannot help but think, “We’re not in Kansas anymore”.  One of these instances came during that trip of mine down to Taroko Gorge.  The drive was three hours each way on my scooter, but in no way do I regret choosing that mode of transportation.  While the road is of course very curvy and dangerous, I cannot help but think that it will be the most beautiful driving I will do in my entire life.  Looking out from where the sea meets shoreline far below the mountain road, out into the endless expanse of the sparkling Pacific, has burned into my mind mental pictures I doubt could be erased.  And all this is saying nothing of the breathtaking majesty of Taroko itself.  Nowhere on Earth have I been more impressed and taken aback by the beauty and power of nature.  While at the Gorge, I felt a strong impulse to maintain a certain reverence in the presence of something far greater and older than myself.  Presented with evidence of millions of years of work and creation, it is hard to not have spiritual and philosophical stirrings.  Knowing that Taroko Gorge is such a treasured and important place in Taiwanese culture only increases my respect for the Taiwanese people.  Taroko is absolutely something to be treasured. 

     Another moment of overpowering awe struck me while visiting a nearby tidal park, a short stretch north, up the coast.  Simply walking the stone paths of the park was a memorable experience since the park looked like it came straight out of a storybook, or from The Lord of the Rings.  The curvy paths wound around ancient, beautifully gnarled trees, creating a wonderful union of man and nature.  Emerging from the path, the park opened up onto the shore: a collection of enormous boulders reaching out into the rough ocean waters.  Climbing out onto some of the further rocks, I was able to sit and let the violent waves crash around me while still remaining dry.  In the distance, a group of local fishermen patiently waited for catches on another far out rock.  The image of them created a beautiful silhouette with Turtle Island looming behind them in the background.  The moment struck me as so perfectly Taiwanese that I am sure I could never forget it.

     Yet Taiwan has a powerful effect on my psyche not only through its gorgeous natural scenery but also through its people, specifically, my students.  I often tell my older students, who are high school age, that I think I learn just as much from them as they learn from me.  Just the other day, I heard that one of my favorite students described me as being like an older brother to the class, and of course my heart swelled.  With more experienced students like them, the learning process is not nearly as one-sided as it is with younger students.  Every class I have with these high school students teaches me more and more about the details and nuances of Taiwanese culture, little facts and opinions that I find absolutely fascinating since they are pieces of information I probably would never be exposed to otherwise.  I am continually impressed by the complexity of the ideas my students are able to express in English.  Just the other day I was able to explain the difference between the conscious and unconscious mind to one of my classes, and they understood it.  Since I learned about that topic in my university English Literature classes, I would say that I have some pretty remarkable students. 

     So it seems that Taiwan has stretched my worldview to limits far past what I thought possible a year ago.  The shockingly new has settled into being familiar and even comforting, like shaping my apartment into a home.  Yet I am sure that I have not exhausted all of the fascinating secrets Taiwan holds; many rocks still remain unturned.  So as I continue on, I will do so with the happiness that comes with knowing you are on an adventure.

The End.