A Time in Taiwan

Due to the coronavirus, I arrived in Taiwan 5 months later than originally planned. Fulbright scholarships typically last about a year, but mine was reduced to 7 months and now that Covid-19 has come to Taiwan, I left early so it only ended up being a 6-month experience. But in those 6 months, a lifetime occurred and now, as I sit on a plane back to America, I wanted to take some time to write and reflect on my experience.

I arrived in Taiwan on January 1 and left on June 28 and while most stories start at the beginning or the end, this one unfortunately starts in the middle. On April 2 a passenger train traveling down the east coast of Taiwan derailed after hitting a truck that had fallen onto the tracks. A total of 50 people died in the accident, including Senead Short and Laura Luo, two Americans that were a part of my Fulbright Cohort.

The greatest human tragedy is that our beautiful complex minds are guarded by our mortal fragile bodies. Our minds, personalities, and character that take years to create can be exterminated in an instant. It’s hard for me to make sense of the fact that a forgotten emergency brake stole the existence of two young and beautiful people. I do not have much to say about their deaths beyond that, but I do have plenty to say about their lives. So if you’ll indulge me for a moment, I’d like to share one memory I had with each of them.

The Night After the Failed Scooter Test

I had just failed my scooter test and I felt absolutely terrible about it, and I really just wanted some alone time to mope. But I made plans to hang out with Senead and I didn’t want to flake, so I went home and waited for her arrival. She called me when she got to my apartment, and I asked if she wanted to come up or me to come down. She told me it didn’t matter. I changed my mind like six times over a small decision, Senead laughed along, and eventually I hopped in the elevator and met Senead at the bottom.

The doors opened and Senead smiled back at me. I told her I had three options for dinner she could choose from, a local Taiwanese place that had really good soups (I loved the hot and sour), an American style bar with grilled cheeses, and an Indian Place.

“Out of India?” Senead asked me.

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“I looked at some places beforehand”

Of course she did. Senead was always hunting for those cute little boutique places and Out of India mostly fit the mold. We got to the restaurant, and we sat in the basement. Senead ordered a chickpea curry, and I ordered a veggie curry. We mostly just caught up about school and other life events that happened since the last time we saw each other. We both ate our entire meals (me much faster than Senead) and we were extremely full after. We planned to get drinks after but we both wanted to walk for a while first to let the fullness dwindle. We walked through my favorite street in Dongmen and then we circled through the park and I remember seeing these pants that had plants coming out of them. It was some sort of hipster artwork being displayed in the park. I said I liked them. Senead said they were creepy. I asked her if she thought art was objectively or subjectively good. She said it was subjective. I was surprised by her answer, but I shouldn’t have been. Senead liked some pretentious things, but she wasn’t actually pretentious herself — she was incredibly open minded, and she saw the best in people.

I told her about a few places to get drinks in the area. When I described Another Brick as a “small little hole in the wall place,” she jumped on it. That was just her vibe. I pulled up my phone and said it was a 19-minute walk or an 8-minute bike ride. I asked her which she would rather do. She insisted that we biked even though I secretly just wanted to walk. We got to the YouBike station, and I had recently lost my Easy Card so I didn’t know how to rent the bike. I again suggested we just walk but she again insisted that we bike and helped me figure it out.

We got bikes and as soon as we started riding I was glad we did. I have always felt like a strong biker, but as Senead and I glided through Taipei’s harrowing streets I took a back seat. She led the charge, navigating between cars, scooters, and sidewalks. She was confident on her bike, standing, sitting, head perfectly on a swivel, anticipating the motions around her. Her aura was captivating, and I followed behind with a smile on my face. These are some of the best moments in life, hanging out with a fun, beautiful person, adventuring through the night.

I had noticed her cycling wisdom previously when we rode together for the first time along the Keelung River.

“You’re pretty good on a bike,” I remember saying.

“That’s how I got around in China,” she responded in her quintessential matter-of-fact way.

After a short ride we parked our bikes and sat down at the bar. We picked up on our conversation from before — smoothly shifting between personal questions, jokes, and discussions of the world. Every time I would make an absurd comment or little joke she would respond with “Naaaattteee” dragging out my name just to end it abruptly. I don’t know why but it’s really memorable to me. I really liked how she said my name. We talked about Lebanon, where Senead spent nearly a year after college. She told me about a crush she had there and the drama behind it. I’ll leave out the details to protect her privacy. She also told me about growing up with her religious family and how she was looking for a church to join in Taiwan. She went to one church event and bravely asked the pastor about roles for women. He had a sexist reply and she never went back. I told her about my religion: Penn State sports and she laughed. I could tell she found it charming. She was even entertained by a few stories of my favorite games. There were people in our cohort who assumed Senead was judgy but she was one of the least judgmental people I have ever met. You could tell she just liked to see other people happy, no matter how they achieved it.

Eventually it got to the point where I was gulping down my third drink while Senead was still sipping on her first (and only). We just kept chatting and chatting and chatting, and before we knew it, it was time for her to catch the last train home. I walked her to the station, hugged her goodbye, and she got on the train.

The Night of the Four Karaokes

The week started with a text in our basketball group chat from Laura “Ball tmrw? Thursday? Both?” She was the leader of our group, constantly texting us to tell us where and when to play.

Augie and Alex, neither of whom have played with us before, both said they were down to play.

Laura responded, “Wow this is about to be the best week ever.” She didn’t know she was going to die.

Laura got to the court first. We had played here once before and there was a group of people singing karaoke in the background. She texted us to warn us.

Ah the karaoke is alive & well. I guess it’s not just Wednesday and Friday.

In fact there are multiple karaokes going on

OK this is actually kind of a lot

The rest of us finally showed up and we got right to playing. We picked up one local guy who was playing by himself and started running some 3 on 3. We shot for teams, and it was me, Laura, and the local guy together. He later earned the nickname “Hookshot guy” for his Kareem-esque techniques.

As we played, the four different outdoor karaoke nights blended together in the background making it nearly impossible to hear our teammates. But when you’re balling, you hardly need words. You know each other’s tendencies, habits, and favorite spots on the floor. Laura, Hookshot guy, and I were on a roll. After three straight wins, we started our 4th game in a row. Laura checked the ball up and bounced it into me on the high post. I took a few dribbles into the paint, the final one intentionally a bit high to bait in Laura’s man. Laura noticed and circled around behind me, I passed the ball off, she went smoothly into her jump shot. Clank.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry”

Laura never missed a shot she wasn’t sorry for — as the only woman on every court we ever played on, she felt like she constantly had to prove herself. But she always did. The next two shots fell through. Another victory. I kept demanding that we stay on until we lose. Laura complained about being thirsty, but I knew she really wanted to keep playing. She was a true competitor. She had been obsessed with basketball over the past few weeks, working on her shot every day. Spending extra time at school to play with her students. About a week later, I met her brother Gary at a small private funeral and he told me about her growing up “Laubron.”

After we finished playing, it was time to eat. Laura was a deep and complicated woman but the Laura I got to know was fixated on three main things: basketball, teaching, and food. We almost always got food after we played but, on that night, I decided not to join to get home a bit earlier. I don’t remember our goodbye.

Finding a Family

The transient millennial must build new friends at every new destination. Sure, we will always have our friends and family wherever we go but a person needs a local friend-family to be there through it all — the good, the bad, and the mundane. When I arrived in Taiwan, I was excited to be a part of a large cohort and I was hoping to make close friends and build lasting relationships. I spent a year and a half before Taiwan living in DC and I had plenty of friends and a good life, but I didn’t have a friend group or friend-family. In high school I had the “highest council,” a group of 6 guys that I love like brothers. In college I lived with the same guys basically my whole time there and built out an extended family through the club I started. After I graduated, I joined Teach For America where I met some of the most caring and fun people of my entire life. I felt at home with all these groups. Maybe I’m projecting my own lived experience onto others but I genuinely believe having a close friend group is one of the most important things we can do to be happy. So when I headed off to Taiwan, a country nearly 8,000 miles away from my actual family, I was looking to build a friend-family for the duration of my fellowship and beyond.

But things didn’t naturally click into place with me and my cohort. I’m aware that my blend of absurd foolishness and intense desire to make the world a better place isn’t everyone’s cup of tea — but it felt like most people in Fulbright either didn’t understand me or didn’t share my values. In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t be surprised by this, Fulbright mostly attracts people who want a cool experience abroad, which is totally fine, but it’s no guarantee that two people who enjoy traveling will have core values that align. But by March a small friend group was starting to form, and I was feeling really excited about it. It was me, Alex, Amy, Laura, and Senead…Amy called our Group Chat “the cheese dog squad” because I had a habit of raving about deliciousness of Korean Hot Dogs which are essentially giant mozzarella sticks.

It’s impossible not to think about how different everything would have been if that stupid truck didn’t fall on those stupid tracks. The adventures we would have shared and the deep bond we could have formed. But these missed memories are now nothing more than a fantasy. This is the only reality we get to live in.

I do want to be clear that Senead and Laura’s deaths are not about my personal sadness, but I hope my pain helps illustrate the quality of their character and the impact they had on the people around them. The world is a darker place without them.

Moving Forward

It’s hard not to write about my time in Taiwan without making it sound like I was sad all the time. But I promise I wasn’t. I have been able to move forward inspired by the knowledge that Senead and Laura would want me to live life to the fullest. And I’m fortunate enough to have been gifted a brain that just won’t let me be sad all the time.

So I still did many amazing things in Taiwan. I rode a scooter all around the northern coast and national parks. I jumped off cliffs. I swam at secret private beaches. I hiked up beautiful mountains. I biked and ran along the river. I went to cool bars and partied until sunrise. I lived a life worth living. And I am so incredibly thankful that I am privileged enough to be able to experience the beauties of being in a new country with a new culture.

Of course, I was not just in Taiwan to travel and explore the island, I also had a teaching job. My responsibilities were a lot less than I’m used to in America. The actual teaching hours were cut by more than half and I just had to pop into the classrooms, teach a little bit of English, and pop out. No grading, parent calls, or administrative tasks. I did help with some curriculum design as well, but I spent a good chunk of hours hanging out in the school office bored. Still, I gained a new perspective on education, and I do genuinely believe that this experience will help me be a better, more creative teacher back in America.

I also got to study some Chinese while I was here and I’d say I’m probably at a similar level as someone who completed Chinese 101. It’s a really cool language and I hope that I find time in the future to continue to grow. It would be great to spend a summer in Taiwan doing one of their immersion language programs.

Living in Taipei

While Fulbright places grantees all around the island, I was lucky enough to get placed in Taipei. Taipei is really an incredible city with so much to offer and it made me think a lot about urban planning, but I’ll save the policy rants for another time. The housing and general living is really affordable. I lived in one of the more expensive areas in the city and my rent was equivalent to about $400 USD per month. The density of the city also means that you’re surrounded by 100s of great food and drink options. I ate so much delicious food and despite Taiwan having a minimal amount of immigrants, there were food cuisine options from cultures all across the world. Taipei might be the best food city I’ve been to. A few personal highlights were the Cong Yao Bing with egg (just google it), the fresh mangoes, and the vibrant Indian food scene.

If you want to venture a little further outside your neighborhood for food or for any other reason, it’s really easy to travel around the city. Taipei has one of the best public transit systems in the world, of which the heart is the MRT (subway) that always comes on time and can take you pretty much anywhere you need to go. It’s clean, fast, and a lot better for your mental health than pushing your car through traffic. After the pandemic hit, I started scootering around the city instead and I also loved that, although the constant 90 second traffic lights are a bummer.

And besides all of Taipei’s unique charm it was great just to live in a huge urban metropolitan area where the possibilities and the people truly feel endless. Taipei is a great place to live or to visit and I would highly recommend it to anyone.

The People

I won’t speak in broad generalizations about the Taiwan people because it is a country of 24 million different personalities but all I can say is that I was constantly treated with kindness. My colleagues at school went above and beyond to make sure I was welcomed and happy. They also frequently treated me to traditional Taiwanese cuisine to ensure that I got an authentic experience. White foreigners undoubtedly have a different experience than travelers of color, so I must recognize that, but in general you will hear people speak fondly of the Taiwanese people. A particular shoutout goes to Kenny and Elaine, the local site managers for Taipei who bent over backwards to hold our oblivious hands through all the bureaucracy and confusion that comes with being in a country that is not your own.

See you next time

I left Taiwan with a mixture of emotions. There were times where it felt like a black cloud was following me and everyone I knew. And there were other times where I simply got lost in the beauty and the indescribable feeling of exploring a new world. There are so many things I didn’t get to do. I want to go back someday and explore the southern part of the island and I also think I need another chance to make peace with the death of my friends. My life will move on, but theirs won’t, and I want to intentionally let the good things about them become good things about me.

When people speak in a second language, there are certain expressions they adopt that are not really used by native speakers. I found these to be quite charming in Taipei. One trend, at least among my coworkers, was to say “see you next time” instead of “see you later.”

So, with that, I say to Taiwan.

See you next time.