In many ways, Taiwan is a sad place right now (and not just because they know I’m leaving). There’s a sense among so many I speak with that they’ll never spread their wings again and soar. That they’ll always be in China’s shadow, and that China will continue to chip away at Taiwan’s businesses, which simply can’t compete with prices in the mainland. Everywhere you look in Taipei, there are long lines of taxis. Lots of taxis. Few passengers. A taxi driver was telling me just the other night how hard life has become for him and his family. What can you do? They always ask me when me I think things will turn around, when Taiwan will “bounce back.” I don’t know what to say.
In every industry, multinationals are cutting their budgets in Taiwan and other relatively small markets as they focus on the “BRICs” (Brazil, Russia, China and India), those as yet untapped markets that seem to hold so much promise, and you wonder how the other markets will cope. I want to think there’s still a lot of hope for Taiwan. There”s so much wealth here and so much success, and a visit down any of the main streets will tell you that people here are still buying. But everyone’s nervous. Just about all the young people I meet have plans to study abroad. The mindset is that the only way to survive is to get out, to master English and perhaps find a job in China. English schools are everywhere, and they, too, are thriving. English is thought to be one of the keys to getting out, or at least to getting a better-paying job. And it’s true. Jobs are scarce, but there’s a serious need for competent people who speak fluent English. If you can read and write English, you have a tremendous advantage.
Still, I think it’s important not to get sucked into the trap of feeling grief and pity for Taiwan. As I said, there’s still a huge amount of wealth and opportunity here. It’s still one of the most vibrant places I’ve ever seen, and there’s a lot here to love and enjoy. And I know very soon I am going to miss these things terribly.
First, there are the people. The Taiwanese are truly a class act – gracious, polite, willing to stop and help strangers, always putting their best face forward even in hard times. And even the aforementioned taxi drivers – they, too, amaze me with their kindness and honesty and refusal to sacrifice their morals. At least three times, including just this past weekend, I’ve gotten into a taxi not knowing my destination was just around the corner, and they dropped me off and refused to take any money. (In Shanghai, I’ve been driven literally a few inches and paid the full fare, though the driver could simply have pointed and said, “It’s right across the street, over there.”) And the taxi drivers, and just about everyone else here, are just so nice, so decent and caring. Quite a different story than in Hong Kong. Similar to what I often experienced in Singapore, but no where else in Asia (or the US, for that matter).
I don’t think I love the people of any other country more than I love the Taiwanese. I can tell story after story about good Samaritans, delightful conversations with strangers, offers to help from out of the blue. And just thinking about it now, knowing I will be here only another five or six days (three days this week, and a couple days in January when I return and gather my stuff), I am filled with a sentimental mixture of sadness and appreciation and respect. I know I am going to miss these people soon. Very soon.
There are lots of little things that make Taiwan so magical. The throngs of people lining the main roads like Zhongxiao Dong Lu all through the night, even at midnight, shopping and eating and drinking. The immaculate subways and an infrastructure that really works. The courtesy of the drivers, who actually stop as the light turns red and always yield to pedestrians. The odd weekly ritual when seemingly everyone in the neighborhood gathers on the street to socialize with one another as they wait for the garbage truck to come and take away their trash. (There are almost no public wastebaskets here, and getting rid of garbage is a social event – you really have to see it to understand and appreciate it. Literally hundreds of people pour onto the street to participate, carrying their plastic bags of carefully separated recyclable and disposable rubbish.) The gorgeous mountains that surround the city, leading to the hot springs of Beitou. The boisterous night markets where the vendors never push you to buy and the prices are fair (bargaining doesn’t seem to be part of the general culture here). The little alleys that wind around the major streets filled with small shops and restaurants. Honest landlords who go out of their way to provide excellent service. Even honest real estate brokers. I know there must be crime and dishonesty here, but I’ve never seen it.
I’ve made it something of a Friday night ritual after work to eat at the TGI Friday’s at Zhongxiao-Fuxing, where I regularly meet up with employees of the AIT (the equivalent of the US State Department, which we can’t call the State Department because we don’t recognize Taiwan as a country) and other expats. The staff knows us all by name. They know I like my ice cream served with a long spoon, and that I want my salad dressing on the side. They help me with my Chinese characters and even send me text messages asking when I’ll be back. I am going to miss them like you wouldn’t believe. They offered to throw a party for me my last night here (I’m not much into parties and told them I’d rather keep my exit low-key).
Yeah, there’s a lot about Taiwan that is absolutely first rate. I’d recommend it to anyone considering living in Asia, especially if you have a family. It doesn’t have the sense of the unexpected that Hong Kong and Shanghai do, that sense that just about anything can happen as you walk into the night. It’s not a city of surprises. But it’s anything but boring, and I’d rate it high above Singapore in terms of things to do and see (though that’s not setting the bar very high, come to think of it). I know there will be moments in Beijing when I will look back longingly and wonder, Why on earth did I ever leave Taipei, where you can wear a short-sleeved shirt and no jacket in December, and where people walking in the pedestrian lanes aren’t considered moving targets? I know, Beijing has its own qualities, and comparisons like that aren’t fair; but they are inevitable.
So thanks to the people who brought me out here, especially Jerome Keating and Bill Stimson, without whose urging I would never have come. It was more than worth it, and I will have the fondest memories of this place and its people for the rest of my life. I’m trying to savor every moment I can as I prepare my belongings for the shippers and get ready to say my farewells. It’s when you prepare to leave a place that you suddenly realize all there is that makes it so special, and you feel the twinge of regret for the places you never got to and the people you never called. But Taiwan will still be here, and I know I’ll be back. And for all the angst and uncertainty, I think they will do okay. God knows they deserve to, and I believe a people as smart and motivated as this can’t be put down for too long. I can’t tell my friends when Taiwan will “bounce back,” but I can honestly say I believe it will.
I didn’t really know what this post was going to morph into as I started it, I just knew I wanted to tell the world how much I love Taiwan before i depart. Now that the post is written, I’m a little embarrassed at its meandering and occasionally mawkish tone, but its completely from the heart. So let me say it one more time: I love Taiwan.
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