Explaining Taiwan To Americans
Created | Updated Sep 21, 2006
My Irish Husband Tony and I recently were privileged to sail on Semester at Sea to Asia. In addition to teaching two classes of university students, I wrote a weekly blog to my fellow Americans. This is the entry about Taiwan.
Dare we? We stared at the iced frappucino in front of us, as we sat in the Starbucks right outside our ship in Keelung, Taiwan. Although mindful of the medical staff's warnings about drinking the water in this port, My Irish Husband Tony and I hadn't yet perfected the correct hand movements to alert the Chinese staff that we wanted 'no ice' in our drink. One sip revealed that it tasted like crap anyway, so we stuck to packaged shortbread.
As we stood up to leave, Nurse Ellen appeared in front of us and said,
'Want to go on an adventure?'
'What kind of adventure?,' I asked warily.
'Let's figure out how to get in to Taipei and then just walk around,' she said.
Exactly the adventure we were looking for. Together, the three of us were able to find the correct train (Well, the ticket window said 'For English'), get off at the correct stop (Well, 'Taipei Main Railway Station' was a clue), and walk around the underground mall (Well, the entrance was right outside the station). We ordered a lovely lunch by pointing and happily helped the young waitress practice her English. But when I said 'Thank you' in Chinese the way we had been taught on the ship, she pointed me to the ladies' room. Probably my American accent.
Emboldened by the success of our first day, Tony and I spent Thursday and Friday exploring Keelung on our own. By Friday night it felt good to just queue up for the bus to take me and 20 fellow shipmates to Gu Ling Experimental Theatre. What would it be about? Who cares?! I'm happy to be a passenger.
After the fascinating presentation by a three-person theatre troupe from Brooklyn, our group stood around, carefully avoiding discussing our opinions of the avant-garde performance, munching on the reception snacks. Finally, a senior passenger declared,
'Well, we've seen experimental theatre!'
I admired the guts of our theatre professor, Tavia, who had arranged this excursion, sight unseen, months ahead of time.
'I searched the internet, and saw that this International Little Theatre Festival was starting when we would be in Taipei, so I signed us up,' she said. When I take students on creative adventures I constantly worry, But what if they don't like it?! Who cares?! I liked it.
On the bus trip back, Shira sat next to me and she had appreciated the performance as much as I had. She told me how frustrated she is that 'everyone else can do what they want,' whereas she is limited by her wheelchair and the stamina of her full-time carer, Jess. She wanted to spend the next day, our last in Taiwan, out in the countryside, but couldn't find others to go with her. 'Jess needs a break,' she explained.
Tony and I had already discussed going out to one of the seaside towns and had researched the train routes to get there. But...
Then Shira said the magic words:
'Jess talked to the tour agent about hiring a car and driver to take us tomorrow.'
'We could do that!' I said.
Saturday morning, I deputized Tony to meet the tour agent with Jess and negotiate a deal. US$80 for four in an air-conditioned taxi, out into the mountains for four hours. Sold.
The tour agent introduced us to 'Mr Cole.' Actually, after I pronounced his name that way she turned to him and said, in Chinese, 'For today, you'll be Mr Cole.' He helped Jess and Tony break down the wheelchair and squeeze it into the small Chinese taxi trunk. We were off!
Where was he taking us? Who cares?! We had confidence in the tour agent's instructions to him. Winding up mountain coastal roads, when I glanced away from the spectacular scenery, I saw a huge diesel truck passing in a no-passing zone, slipping back into the right lane just before a tour bus appeared around the bend. I cringed. Best to keep looking at the scenery and let Mr Cole worry about the driving.
After about an hour we turned into the parking lot of Ocean Beach Park, which had a pool, a cafe, disabled parking and a ramp up to the second level for a great view of the ocean. A young Chinese woman offered to take our picture, and helped translate between us and Mr Cole. Eddie ('I know. It is boy's name,' she explained) apologized for her bad English. I pointed out that her English was better than my Chinese.
We had drinks in the café and, damn it, ice in my juice. Who cares?!
The tour agent had said to me,
'Do you want seafood lunch? Tell Mr Cole and he will take you to good place.'
Tony and I dug out the cheat sheet she had given us, and pointed to: 'Please take us to lunch.' Mr Cole got the message. We crawled into the taxi and headed back down the mountain roads.
Halfway to Keelung he turned onto a small lane bordering an inlet. As he headed towards a street vendor, I was wondering if her cart held our 'seafood lunch.' He drove past her as well as the tiny, dirty shops lined up on the ground floor of a ramshackle building and then stopped in front of one which housed a gorgeous restaurant.
Jess lifted Shira from the taxi to a seat at a corner table and then went with Tony and the restaurant owner to pick our fish from a list in Chinese and English and the smiling faces in the tanks. Eels, oysters — I stuck to steamed shrimp, violating my rule of 'Never eat anything that is looking at you.' I used the chopsticks to break off the little buggers' heads and deposit their pink crusts in a small bowl.
Everyone else dug into fried eel and steamed oysters and we split three huge bottles of Taiwan Beer. Mr Cole agreed that he should drink only water. The restaurant gladly took Mastercard to cover the $1200 bill — New Taiwan (NT) dollars, that is. The equivalent of US$37, for all five of us.
Back into the taxi, back down the mountainside, back to the Keelung Port Terminal. We pooled our cash to pay Mr Cole, including a nice tip. I made a point of telling the tour agent what an incredibly safe driver he was, so she would recommend him again to nervous tourists.
Our first night back on the ship, there was a session for everyone to share their stories in an open mic format. That's when Shira took the biggest risk of all. While someone held the microphone for her, she told about her frustration at not being able to get around as easily as we can. But, she explained, it was important for her to come on this trip to show other disabled that they can do it, too, and to show the rest of us that disabled people can travel the world.
The next day we docked in clean, low-risk, oh-so-British Singapore, with safe water, English-speaking taxi drivers and an accessible metro station right outside the terminal.
Explaining to Americans Archive
