A Note from the Far East
Even though I'd travel west to go to Asia, those ship routes from explores and cartographers forever leave it the East, no matter where you stand with your compass. My friend Kaia left about a year ago to teach English in Taiwan. As my interest in that part of the world has continued to grow, I've loved her emails about funny local customs and remain constantly impressed by how she's grown by the challenges of living alone and making a life in a new world. On account of the SARS, she's decided to uproot her plans and come back home to regroup. In stark contrast to the impersonal reports of quarantine and epidemic, she offers insight into living through a global mess.
She writes:
In early-March, I decided that I wanted to stay in Taipei (at least until the end of the year). I signed a lease for an awesome studio near Daan Park in the heart of downtown. I also applied to study Mandarin more formally at a university here starting in July. All of a sudden, I really felt in my element.
Then SARS came.
At first, it just seemed like a lot of hype. Only a handful of SARS cases were reported in Taiwan, and it looked as though country would be spared. A few people wore facemasks on the street and they really stood out. Some of my students, with concerned parents, wore masks in class and were teased by their friends.
Perhaps inevitably, SARS spread from mainland China. Following the quarantine of several Taipei hospitals and a government order forbidding the issue of visas to travelers from SARS-infected regions, people began to take SARS more seriously. Over the last month, paranoia spread like wildfire. Facemasks are now mandatory on the subway. Taxi drivers, restaurant workers, hairdressers, etc. can't work without their faces covered. My Chinese acquaintances now compare mask models the way they used to talk about cell phone brands - the N95 is said to be best, in case you'd like to know. My students also compete to have the coolest mask cover, sporting masks with Hello Kitty and Adidas and Nike logos.
Other changes are also quite evident. At schools, shopping complexes, movie theaters, restaurants, and gyms, special stations outside check everyone is temperature before allowing entry into the premises. Thousands of people are quarantined in hospitals and some city housing districts. The country's largest department store, SOGO, even closed for several days when a cashier and several customers there had SARS symptoms. It's really depressing. Night hangouts are empty. The MRT/subway is (pardon my choice of words) deathly quiet. If you cough in public, people stare at you like you dont have any clothes on.
I don't know how much of the hysteria is warranted. In Taipei, a city of millions of people, there have been about 70 SARS-related deaths (which pales in comparison to annual traffic fatalities). I guess what scares people, myself included, is how the virus seems to be spreading unchecked. While the situation on the mainland is supposed to be improving, it continues to worsen here, which is worrisome.
I remain skeptical about my actual risk in Taipei, but I've decided to leave, at least for now. I can't deal with the widespread tension, and air of panic. It's really stifling. (So, for that matter, is wearing a facemask in Taipeis tropical weather). I made my decision to go about two weeks ago, and I've been scrambling to sublet my apartment, get rid of my stuff and figure out what to do next. Work-wise, it's actually not a bad time to leave. My teaching contract is up at the end of May, so I can leave my job without too much hassle. I have only four days left here, which still hasn't quite sunk in yet.
She's coming back this weekend. I was struck by how many people seem to be going through the same process of picking up, moving, giving things away, and starting anew - I was surrounded by this at Middlebury this weekend, overwhelmed by how many
things are needed to sustain life or at least the
quality of life we've all come to rely on. Even if our collections are far from priceless or auction worthy, we are all collectors. Every now and again, my minimalist urges take over and I feel the need to stand on a cliff throwing off books and button down shirts and be rid of it all. Of course my sense always gets the better of me (and my pack-rat gene is dominant to my recessive minimalist one) but I am reminded of how heavy and difficult it can be to schlep things from one home to another and then after having moved boxes and pots and pans, how no guarantee exists, even after all of that hard work, that the move was always the right thing at the right time.
In the meantime, living out of my car for ten days necessitates a car wash and vacuuming. All of my clothes are dirty and my desk is a mess. I need to do something about all of this. Can I make a recommendation - start listening to this young-Dylan Josh Ritter and thank me later.
posted by lmjasinski at 12:13 PM
