Monday, 19th September
I have now spent an entire day out in the world!
The real world is terrifying and confusing – I want quarantine back.
José, on the other hand, was so excited to leave that he arranged a taxi for 00:01 on the day of our freedom.
Our last balcony conversation took place after my first earthquake experience! I felt the room begin to sway and blamed it on my need to sleep. Then the walls, light fixtures and my hands began to shake.
Driving into National Cheng Chi University's campus was an incredibly surreal experience. One second you are driving through a bustling suburb of Taipei, the next you enter a huge campus, with buildings that I have since likened to The Hunger Games' capitol. My dorm is situated at the top of the mountain campus, and it takes around 15 minutes to drive up there from the main gate of the campus (crucial info for later).
Some incredibly kind family friends help me move in to my dorm room. Luckily my roommate is not around at the time, because we inspect her side of the room and try to guess what kind of human being she is based on her chosen brand of pot noodle.
The first port of call for my room is to buy a mattress, duvet, pillow and bed sheets. Apparently, these are not considered Taiwanese bedroom necessities...
I meet my roommate, Mei, in the evening, and after saying hello it becomes immediately obvious that successful communication will be a luxury in our room. When both Chinese and English are insufficient, we use a mix of google translate, sign language and charades. The only conversation that has not been lost in translation: our mutual hate for cockroaches. She shows me to the bathroom, where she has covered each drain with a lid to stop them from crawling out – we both shiver in disgust.
I tell her I am going to shower, and she signals that I should not. My mind races, trying to figure out if its an earthquake, cockroach or water-related issue. After 15 minutes I figure out that we are waiting for the rubbish truck to turn up. Once Für Elise begins to play on a speaker in our room, we head out to dump our rubbish bags in a big truck outside.
This morning I have some confidence that I know the basic way around campus.
How wrong I was.
After spending way too long trying to figure out how to pay my rent, I decide to make my way back to the dorm and drop my heavy textbooks off. I get on the campus bus, pay my 2NTD and hang on for dear life as the bus driver zigzags uphill, ignoring all the crashes behind him as people slam into walls, seats and each other.
All the markings inside this bus are in traditional Chinese – a written language I am still getting used to. We come to my stop after about 15 minutes and my arms are aching from gripping on to the handle at my head-height. This overcrowded bus is built for an average height of about 5'2. I sigh with relief when we drive towards my dorm building, glad to give my arms and back a rest finally.
I watch with horror as the bus glides past my building without stopping, and it dawns on me that the big red button in front of me is the stop here please button. I panic and search around for a solution as the dorm fades out of view but it's too late. I make eye contact with a girl on the bus – she watched the scene play out and gives me a pitying smile.
I solemnly ride the bus as it makes its way round the remote corners of the campus, and watch bitterly as the other students navigate the simple bus route with ease.
I get off the bus at the same point I climbed on 30 minutes ago, and start my trek up the hill – choosing to walk rather than bear the shame of having to explain my mistakes to the driver.
At this point I suddenly realise I have no idea how to walk home – having only driven before.
Somehow, after going the wrong way three times, I find a lift that takes me to a walkway connected to my building. I breath a sigh of relief – my fear of lifts paling at the thought of 10 flights of stairs in 32 degree heat.
As I come to the lift, however, the buttons don't light up and doors aren't closing. So, hanging on to my last shred of patience, I clamber up the stairs, lugging my three textbooks and laptop with me.
Nearly 1.5 hours after setting off, I slump onto my bed, switch the fan on and angle it toward my face. As I gulp down a gallon of water to tackle the sweat-induced dehydration, I come to the conclusion that half a pence is not a bad price to pay for a campus tour anyway.
