The Talking Traveller

I am sitting in my apartment, it is almost time for lunch, I realize that although I have some jam and peanut butter my bread is finished. I decide to go and buy bread at the local supermarket. I get up, take off my key from the special hook and walk out the door. I turn around, insert the key, and turn it the wrong way around to lock it, clockwise and not anti-clockwise that I'm used to. I turn around and face the neighbours front door. There are some chinese characters written boldly in red on the door. I do not recognize them, I cannot match them with any of the 134 chinese characters already stored in my memory bank. All around the front of the door pairs of shoes are placed with neat intention. I count a total of 12 pairs, ranging from child sizes to high white leather woman boots. I've only seen our neighbours once or twice, and once again when their Maltese poodle stormed me, jumping up my leg with the hopes or reaching my knee and do something,I don't know what, but we all had a great laugh. I walk to the elevator and join two people already heading down, a mother and her child. Vaguely I can conclude that the child said "There's a foreigner!" Giggling shyly while the mother tries to save face and avoid embarrassment. I turn, giving my best smile and say "Hello! How are you?" The child is ecstatic, hiding behind her mother, giggling, playfully avoiding eye contact with me.The mother is also smiling broadly now, encouraging her child to practice some english. The lift stops, I hold open the elevator door, the mother smiling even more and uttering a recognizable "Xie Xie Ni!" which means "Thank you very much!", the child is tactfully placing her mother between us while exiting the elevator, just before the door closes I manage to slip in a "bye!bye!" waving at the child and smiling, once again the child is ecstatic with laughter while the door closes. I reach the basement where my scooter is parked at it's allocated position, no 590. I take my helmet that was loosely placed on the seat, releasing that my fear of non-secured items being stolen has been greatly diminished. All around I see helmets and raincoats loosely placed on scooters, and I'm sure If I pay more attention, I will find some keys left in the ignition overnight, no worries.

I secure my helmet with the chin strap and put my glasses back on, get on the scooter, subconsciously finding my balance and start pushing back. I start the engine with a push of the button, turn the fuel throttle and off I go. A thought swiftly sweeps through my mind that I am one of hundreds of foreign teachers driving without a license, and picturing myself being stopped by traffic police,talking afrikaans very fast, causing confusion, and being let go with a warning, that is the suggested protocol. I exit the parking area, nodding to the traffic attendant and receiving a smile in return together with an open arm confirming that it is safe to exit into the traffic. I look, find and enter a gap in the traffic line and start heading for the supermarket. I stop and wait and the traffic light concentrating on the countdown that is displayed in bright red numbers, only 46 seconds to wait. My eye catches the pedestrian crossing indicator and I cannot help but smile at the walking green man. I have seen this nowhere else, usually it's a stationary light in a man form but in Taiwan they added movement, like a comic. During the last 10 seconds of allowed crossing the walking tempo increases, causing a feeling of haste for the crossing pedestrians with the result of increased speed. I cross the intersection and after a few minutes of inhaling too much pollution I park at the supermarket. Once again leaving my helmet loosely on the seat I enter the supermarket remembering to wait a second for the automatic doors to respond otherwise crashing into them, they are definitely seconds slower in response that all the other automatic door world wide...for sure. The smell of unpronounceable chinese cuisine entertains me while I walk past the fast food section to the supermarket bakery. I know exactly where the sliced bread is and head straight for it, but after collecting my preferred taste I cannot resist to once again look at the different kinds of brown, black and GREEN bread delicacies that are on display, unique to Taiwan from my experience. I stare and examine while recognizing beans and almonds in one bread and also the classic bacon and melted cheese in the other with the knowledge that any kind of pork meat in TW is much much much sweeter that you would expect. After satisfying my visual temptation and denying my burning temptation to taste I head for the counter. Before the assistant starts scanning the barcode of my merchandise she asks me something that I do not understand a word of, but I know the procedure is to ask for any vouchers, and then to ask if I  need any bags. With false confidence in understanding I polite say "Bu, Bu , Xie Xie" No, No thank you. Walking with a unreadable receipt to my scooter I look up and secretly long for the clear blue skies of africa. But then also getting excited for the awaiting adventures of this now-still-strange culture where even buying bread makes me feel like a daring explorer.