Saturday
11/9/02 Hating My Apartment, Hating Taiwan
When I’d gotten home there was a note on my door on which I could make out they were coming at 10AM to fix my apartment leak. At 9:30 I woke to the doorbell and cursed, had forgotten. I answered it in my PJs, my voice hoarse, and he said they were coming in half an hour. I madly dressed, shoved things away and covered things in preparation. I threw a cloth over my PC, knowing they’d get plaster and dirt everywhere, and covered my bed with old sheets. At 10 he returned and said sorry, they can’t come until this afternoon actually. DOH! I laid back down for 1 ½ hours but couldn’t fall back asleep.
The
plumbers came at 2 and started tearing the ceiling panel, and immediately a
steady steam of water came pouring out.
We grabbed all the bucket-type containers I had, 3 of them and just when
it stopped, they tore more and even more water poured out, splattering
everywhere, and they had to refill the buckets 4 times, emptying them in my toilet. The water was dirty with black specks
in it. I wanted to cry. I went out to Watson’s and when I came
back, GuanWu was here and there was dirt on the floor and a blowtorch flaming
and they were sawing tubing. It
looked even worse. GuanWu kept smiling
and laughing saying it would be ok and not too worry, but I was steamed. How could he laugh? I told him there was nothing to laugh
about, and now I had a gaping hole over the door with the pipes and dirty
insides showing; who knew what kind of creatures would pop out of there? They said since 9th floor
people weren’t home (surprise!) they’d have to wait until they started using
the water and see if it started leaking again. I said, “[So you’re just going to leave it open like this
and maybe at any time water will start leaking out of that hole? Could you at least cover it with
something?]” Then didn’t look too
happy about this,
since they wanted to see if water would come through, and covering it would
hinder this. But I insisted, so they said they’d find
something.
I was so
depressed and pissed, I had to get out.
I SMSed Ginger to go shopping and wandered to the lane behind SOGO to
look for eats, all the while thinking of everything about Taiwan that pissed me
off. I sat in a small street eatery
and wrote in my little notepad. I
hate how they bundle up when it’s still 70 degrees out. I hate how they have no money yet they
buy Mercedes and Guess. I hate how
so many people have fake Prada that they probably think mine’s fake too. I hate how they all learned English all
through school yet can’t speak it for shit, and they try to use it on apparel
and ads to look cool, but get the spelling and grammar all wrong. I hate how they’re uncivil and bump you
without saying Excuse me and grab the last bus/MRT seat just as you’re
purposefully heading toward it. I
hate how they always have to have cute cartoon things on EVERYTHING. I hate how I can’t find a plain pair of
blue jeans that doesn’t have ridiculous embroidery or flowery or streaky shit
all over it. Most of all, the
crowds. I hate the crowds that
move like sludge and force you to walk in the street or anywhere there’s space
between the cars and scooters.
We went to
Taipei Main Station and walked around.
I asked her if, the closer she got to going home, the more she’d felt
she hated Taiwan? She said “Yes,
and when you come back here, you’ll hate it even more.” Great. I said, “Even little things piss me off!”
“It’s all
about the little things.”
But buying
things does cheer me up, and I actually bought nothing for myself. Got a scroll for Dad’s birthday with a
bible verse in Chinese on it, a small Santa MashiMaro for JiauJe that I
bargained from 190 to 150 (not outstanding, but I’m getting more comfortable
with the old bargaining act), and after looking at electronics decided on a
nice sleek silver and blue Panasonic Discman for Dave, complete with remote,
earphones, and rechargeable batteries and charger. It’s much nicer than my old clunker and will be the most
hi-end toy either of us owns.
We’d
gotten coupons off the street for
an American TexMex fast food place and decided to give it a try. Everyone there had the same coupons,
standing around staring at them trying to figure out what the deals were. We had to ask a lot of questions about
what they said, but in the end Gin got chicken nuggets (shaped like Indian
arrowheads) and I a fried chicken with fried fish stick and “buttermilk” pie
that was really coconut. Every
item was so greasy that it shone, and coated my hands. We finished and I said, “Well. That was
rather unsatisfying.”
We stopped
in a bookstore and while looking at the magazines, I suddenly spotted
something. Look, it’s that girl
who was sitting at our table at Naomi!
The pretty girl with short hair who ordered the ice cream was on the
cover of a women’s magazine in a sexy low-cut dress looking sultry; it was
unmistakably her, since I’d stared at her all night. We looked at it in awe for a bit thinking how we’d sat with her
all night and here she was on a magazine. She’s also been in a Biore commercial. So we thought, “Well I guess it’s not
that hard to meet celebrities in Taiwan.
We were at the club with Elva, and we also met this girl.”
Yeah, I guess “famous” people here are in a country the size of New
Jersey, so it’s not such a big deal.
Brad
called and asked if we wanted we could come over and have a drink at his place
since he wasn’t up for going out.
Gin wanted to go home and call her bf for a bit since he was depressed,
just found out his boss won’t let him take off time to come here during
Christmas. She says he wants her
to come back soon even though she’d consider staying here longer than 6
months. “Stay, stay!” I demanded. “I’m
just being your evil influence again.
I want you to stay for my own selfish reasons!” So we split for home and I opened my
door, dreading what I’d see inside.
To my surprise, they’d screwed a large cardboard panel over the hole to
cover it, and had swept up all the dirt.
It looked much better and I was relieved.
Gin called
after a bit, was up for checking out Brad’s place and suggested we bring ice
cream. His stop was pretty far
down the Mucha Line and when we
got out it was quiet with only one main freeway where cars zoomed straight by,
no lanes for turning into, and many a stray dog roamed the streets. He met us on the way and we stopped in
a K Quikmart and got vanilla HaagenDazs and walked to his place, a tall very
nice apartment building on a hill.
It had a common game room with pool and pingpong tables, which he said
were for beer pong (“Not ping pong?”
“No, just beer pong”).
Outside his door were tons of pairs of sneakers, “all for different
purposes.” I knew it’s because
he’s a marathon runner, but I said it made him look like Jerry Seinfield.
His place,
as I’d suspected, was very nice and tastefully decorated, especially the living
room where you first walk in. Dark
red leather couch and armchair, sliding doors and balcony, small plants, a
small tree on the balcony, paintings, a large silk Chinese scroll, extensive
diverse CD collection, Oriental hall rug,
two bedrooms and two bathrooms, a study, hardwood floors, a kitchen with
a back patio and back door. It was
huge for one person. The views
from the windows I could tell were beautiful even though at night it was hard
to see, but the area is surrounded by mountains.
He played
some of his very diverse music—jazz, latin, Spanish--and we had the ice cream
with Kahlua poured on top which was pretty good. Gin asked to see his photos. They’re both very into photography. My mom always told me to take pictures
with you and your friends in them, otherwise just scenery is “boring” and “a
waste”. But after seeing some of
Ginger’s and Brad’s pictures I’d disagree.
So he
showed us 2 albums, one of his first Taiwan trip where he taught mostly female
students (“Did they flirt with you?” “Oh yea, all the time”). He looked much younger and with puffier
hair. I told him he looked like
Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate and he said thousands of people have said the
same. The second was of his six
months in Chile “studying” and teaching English also. Slipped in were his trip to Thailand and Nepal. He was full of stories. I asked why there weren’t many crazy
party pictures—only two albums, for all those places he’s been to? He said Oh there are, these are the
clean, innocent albums, the ones he shows to his family and such. I said that’s just how it was at Love
Boat—we all took tons of pictures but later realized they were all of people
drinking, so when we went home all we could do was show our parents a few
singled out photos and say we didn’t take many pictures.
At two we
got going and cabbed home. I’d
successfully avoided being home all day; I hated coming back to that apartment…