Just Joe

Like most other foreigners, I can say I would never have pictured myself living in Taiwan, especially considering I grew up in Grand Bend, a town with less people than Sogo on a Saturday.  From my childhood growing up in a bar my parents owned and falling asleep to the famous and popular singer Rick Powell  (A.K.A.  the old school blend from the Bend.), and to teenage years of living with friends, being enrolled in college and hardly going to it.  With no big cities nearby and having never traveled outside my county, the only time I and the other nine peoples of my tribe would see a new face was when the snow melted, the lake warmed up, and the beer store was open past five.  And these new faces weren’t the ones of your fellow Taiwan travelers with big smiles.  They were different. 

As for the other ten months of the year, it was piled snow, empty cottages and endless Rockfords.  This ghost town wasn’t the best environment for young teenagers like myself to grow up in.  The high school I went to twenty minutes away also didn’t exactly lead me in the direction my fellow students and I should have been led.  The only things learned were how to empty a bottle, fill a bowl, and be sharp when it came to comments at the teacher’s expense.  Eventually my mother moved to another town about an hour away so I decided to switch high schools for my second-last year and broaden my world.  I learned more in one year at my new school than I did the other nine at my old one.  I also realized that skipping as many classes as possible and organizing booze cruises with my new found free time wasn’t the main goal of school. 

However, being the intelligent young individual that I was, I decided to go back to my old school for my final year, back with the boys for one last helluvah year.  That is a year of my life I will never get back.  At the time I moved home, the pimp that my old man was found a sugar mama who owned a campground.  He became Trailer Park Supervisor and in later years helped me relate to Trailer Park Boys.  At the end of high school my old man and I made important decisions.  He gave up his lifetime career of being a singer and I gave up my small town life.  I realized the scene wasn’t for me, and finally months later I managed to do it.

 I moved into a city ten times bigger than Grand Bend, with the same population as Sogo on Valentine’s Day.  I went to college for two years, not that I was ready and knew what I wanted to study, but because I was pushed by the caring mother we all have.  A ten thousand dollar government loan and two years later, I realized college would eventually pay off, even though it had flown by like a Canada Day weekend.  I did what I had to do, when I had to do it and the rest was a blur.  Then college was done and I was back to step one.  Living at the campground and pondering how to come up with a life altering decision. 

Then I made it to step two.  I was pushed by the same person who I’ve been pushing around for the last twenty years - my sister.  She moved to Taiwan and opened up my eyes to a whole world outside of Huron County.  So after living with the old school blend for another six months, it was time.  My sister’s boyfriend, my mother and I all jumped on a plane to visit my sister for a month.  As soon as I set foot on the island I was overwhelmed.  Scooters sure were a frequently used automobile.  Right then I knew I was going to live here but within that month I realized there was more to Taiwan than just kick-ass transportation.  Sis had everything planned out perfectly for us.  We took a train and traveled to many places around the island, including Hualian, Green Island and even Kenting for Spring Scream.  You may have seen us in Kenting - we were the ones who showed up there on a Saturday night with all our luggage looking for a room.  Obviously, we found ourselves sleeping on the beach and waking up looking like burnt tomatoes.

But the traveling we did, was not like the traveling you do with your buddies where you try to go to as many bars and fight as many bouncers as possible and not sleep before your flight home the next morning.  We did it the right way, seeing the things that bring all of these foreigners to this country.  The things that Taiwan has to offer that nowhere else in the world does including the helpful and friendly locals - which is the real reason I am still here today.  We saw hundreds of temples, each one a different refuge for people with different beliefs.  Coming to the end of the trip I figured out it was too good to be true.  I couldn’t stay - I had no money - and there was no way I could live here without any. 

So one month and twenty hours of flying later, I was back to snowy flat farmlands and a 15 minute drive to the 711.  Back to the lake, and empty cottages instead of temples, and transport trucks instead of scooters.  Sitting back at step one I pondered on how I could get money to get back to the island I found so intriguing and unexplored.  Then I came up with the perfect idea. What has good money, long hours and the freedom of quitting and going back whenever you want?  Roofing. 

I was the new guy for 339 thirteen hour, tar-inhaling, verbal and physical fighting days.  Some call it the “bitch position.”  FYI, the roofing bitch position is much worse than the restaurant bitch position.  Finally I proved myself, and some fresh meat joined the crew.  They weren’t the first to join the crew, but they were the first to last more than half a day.  Now I got the cake walk, telling people what to do and never having to lift another insulation- or boulder-filled flat-tired wheelbarrow again.  It’s just a shame my promotion came three days before I quit.

After the three best days of my life ended, I did it.  I had a good chunk of change and a sold ’91 Camaro.  I was on a plane and life was good.  However, after switching flights in San Francisco and boarding a plane to Japan, it hit me in one big wad of spat binglung - culture shock, and the fact that I have never lived by myself, traveled by myself or not had a change-filled jar to rob when funds got low.  But there was no turning back.  I was sitting in the middle seat in the middle row talking to a Japanese man who spoke less than mediocre English for thirteen hours.  Good thing I didn’t smoke at the time or I would have been fiending.  To make things even better, I couldn’t drink because I was too young and not drinking was usually not an option for me, being a roofer and all.

The flight ended and the adventure began.  My sister was living in Taiwan at the time and would be doing so for another three weeks.  She helped me find a place to live and gave me a scooter (which at the time I would have chosen over a new BMW).  I am appreciative of all the help I was given to get my feet on the ground.  From my sister who showed me how to get by and taught me what I needed to know, to the friends I’ve met who’ve shown no impatience or hostility to go out of their way to give me a hand and make all of this possible. The three weeks ended, my sister was on a plane back home and for the first time ever, I was on my own and it has been a great feeling ever since.

It’s now eight months later and I’m still just beginning to learn about the culture of this country, knowing only the essentials needed to survive, such as paying bills, finding good mechanics and where food is.  How to use the language barrier to my advantage, and what roads to take after midnight.  Then on a recent evening, I emailed my sister who has always been the first one to talk to about anything.  When she got my message she was astonished by the fact I wasn’t in jail or dead yet seeing as how she witnessed my first three weeks here.  When I first arrived I was boggled by all of the things that were legal in Taiwan that weren’t in Canada.  Also by the fact that I was pretty much going to lose money if I didn’t take up smoking seeing as how cheap cigarettes are.  From being able to walk around in department stores with a Taiwan pijiou (gold medal of course) and a shao de sized pack of Marlboro’s, to spending the same amount of money that would get you two drinks at a pub back home on a whole night of drinking, and then maybe even hopping on a rental scooter for a nice morning ride home that may end with a broken foot and some missing mirrors, as well as some lessons learnt and others to learn.  Such as different traffic laws, and knowing directions rather than just recognizing 711s and gas stations.  It’s pretty easy to get lost in Taiwan when you are new, seeing as how every street name changes every block. 

Nowadays however this is not the case, and that was what this email was about.  About me being a refined and purified man.  So sitting at the internet café with eight months of Taiwan living under my belt (which isn’t quite bragging rights yet) I started my email writing in regards to my sublimation.  Writing about how I am now settled down, the six month binge that most foreigners go through when they first arrive was over, and I’m back on track.  My habits and environments have changed drastically compared to my arrival.  I am now reading a lot more, and spending a lot of time at the gym.  The main thing I wanted to tell my sister was how I was beginning to write.  I have always written but have gotten more and more serious about it since moving to Taiwan. Even though I never write more than a page or two at a time, I find that I have a strong interest and have fun doing it.  It’s a good way to remember ways that you have felt in the past.  My sister has always had an interest in writing as well, and had written an article in Xpat before she left.

I pushed the button and emailed the questions to the other side of the world.  As I leave the café and walk outside I hear my phone ringing and it’s Lance Carrol from “the Voice” telling me his next issue is going to be about “Joe” and would I like to write a two thousand word article for it.  This call is the perfect (coincidental?) opportunity to see whether or not I will enjoy writing for others to read. 

So here it is, an article about my life story.  I have had a lot of fun writing it considering I wouldn’t write an article this big if my grade 9 English grade depended on it.  Even if it is not a very serious submission and it may bore you to read some random foreigner’s life story, it’s a great experience for me, and besides, what you read on the porcelain throne isn’t important.  It’s passing time isn’t it? 

Many pages can be filled on thoughts and experiences influenced by different cultures and environments, and a great way to be influenced by these is by traveling.  Everyone should travel at some point in his or her life.  It is a healthy thing to do on many levels but the main reason why I feel this is such a great experience is because of all the people I have met.  All of whom have the same interests as me, seeing as how they are also traveling and going through the same experiences as myself.  Traveling is a great way to live but many people travel to run away from problems in their previous lifestyle.  I have found that it doesn’t matter where you go, your past will follow you, whether it is good or bad. A good example is my best friend Austin. He had lived on the couch at my old man’s for consecutive years and, seeing as how I moved across the world, can no longer do so.  But what happened?  I recently met a guy named Austin, and guess where he’s living?

Expectations of traveling and how it’s not going to be all laid out and perfect the way you think it should be must be considered, and it may not be all it’s cracked up to be.  That is why traveling is for open minds.  If you find yourself complaining about the destination you have traveled to, go home.  Whatever it is that’s disliked is not bad or unacceptable, it’s just different, and different is not a word in the closed minded dictionary.  So honk your horn, run out of gas, try new foods, drink tea with weird balls floating in it, learn a new language, meet new people, dance on stage to Vanilla Ice, explore, learn and remember, and have fun doing it.