Somebody Pinch Me

My plane arrived on time after 26 hours of traveling. Like all airports, the signs were designed for international travelers with English translations. I stood at the baggage claim for over 30 min waiting for my bags to emerge from the magic suitcase hole in the floor. With nearly everyone gone I stated to create a plan B in my head. The problem was I had no phone, no internet and I forgot to write down my recruiter's number before I left. I made sure everyone else had it, but not me. Surprisingly, I felt panic free. Maybe I have learned to control only what I can and accept the rest as it comes. As they say in SA, "I'll make a plan." My bags must have been in the last cargo box off that 747 because they came up nearly together in the last stretch of luggage to be unloaded. As I walked away the lights turned off behind me and the carousel powered down. I followed the petering crowd through customs and out to the lobby where I scanned all the name signs being held by men in suits and uniforms. There I was, "Miss Darcy" on a piece of recycled pink paper taped to a small stand. A young man in his late 20's with spiked hair and wearing tight jeans and a pea coat waved me over to follow him. He took off and left in running to catch up. I needed to get money form an ATM before I left the airport or I couldn't pay for anything. He handed me a phone and on the other end was David, my recruiter. He was a welcomed voice speaking English to me. I sighed. One person in the world knew where I was. The young man kept walking way ahead of me and out the doors to a chaotic sidewalk of taxis, horns, luggage and shoulder to shoulder people. He came back and pulled me through the crowd to a van that apparently had been waiting for me. Another woman and I boarded the van while my bags were thrown in the back. Before I knew it we were swerving through traffic and the young man was not with us. We navigated our way out of Taipei and drove for almost an hour. The driver eventually pulled off the highway and made a U-turn under an overpass. I thought he had made a wrong turn until he pulled up next to a car with it's trunk open and a gentleman leaning against the outside. The van door opened and he waved me out to get into the car. I then realized they were a tag-team taxi service because they had the same symbols embroidered on the backs of their shirts. They insisted on transferring my bags for me. It was, after all, their job. I paid the 1st driver 600 NT ($20) and got into the back of the other car alone. It was a nice car with complimentary water provided in the center console. The driver changed the radio station to an English station and I listened to a remake of "The Girl from Ipanema." I appreciated the gesture. He dropped me off at a little hotel on a busy street corner. It was after midnight by this point. The receptionist didn't speak any English. She showed me how much I owed with 6 fingers, another 600 NT. I was handed a room key and a TV remote and she pointed to the tiny elevator. The room was small and tidy. Everything was old and tattered but felt clean. There wasn't a wrinkle on the bed and it was by far the firmest mattress I've ever slept on. If this is the Taiwanese style of sleeping I'm in for an ergonomic awakening. There was no clock in the room and I was worried I wouldn't wake up on time to meet David, my recruiter. I thought "wake-up call?" Then immediately decided I wasn't in the mood to charade that out with the receptionist. I turned my cell phone on to use the clock, low battery. Would you believe I'm on the other side of the earth and they use the same plug we do? I now had a clock and an alarm for the night. And after a couple minutes my phone automatically switched to the local time. Thanks US Cellular. I slept through the night. Most of it anyway. I woke up to the person in the room next to me brushing their teeth. Paper walls maybe? Bathing felt so good followed by clean clothes. Now for some food. I walked down the five flights of stairs to the lobby and out onto what felt like another planet. There were people everywhere going in every direction on foot, scooter, bus, taxi and bicycle. I couldn't read a single sign anywhere. I crossed the street to a 7 Eleven. I felt as though I had entered a Hello Kitty food mart. Much of the packaging and signage was pink and brightly decorated. I perused around the store trying to find something that looked familiar. I bought a pre-packaged sandwich and a sushi wrap. I recognized the bread and nori part of the wrap but what was inside would be a surprise. I bought a cup of coffee from an outside stand. The young girl spoke a few words of English. Well, she knew the words for milk, sugar and coffee. It was a terrible tasting cup of coffee. I sat down at a table literally on the busy corner outside my hotel and ate my breakfast surprise. I looked around at the people going here and there. Many of them wearing face masks in an effort to combat the poor air quality. Their clothes are the same as mine. Their bags are the same as mine. They are all on their way to someplace else. I couldn't help but wonder what their names are. What is their story? What brings them joy? Who speaks English? Are they originally from mainland China? Do they work in a factory? This is my new life. So exciting and unknown. I have so much to learn. My coffee started tasting better.