An Experience in Culture Shock

The other day I moved to a new place in another part of Taipei, Yong He. I didn’t think anything of going to Chinese class for the first time from my new place. Well, that was my first mistake. I guess turned down the wrong street at some point. For I could not find the subway station no how much I walked. So I started to ask some people for directions. Most of them understood what I was asking. Some gave me directions in Chinese, others made gestures, or just wondered at my bewildered state. At one point, I went into an eye glass store to ask for help. Five or six of the employees gathered around me, talking to each other. Eventually, one of them pointed in some direction and I was off, mind you to no avail. I then had the idea to get on any bus, hoping it would take me to a subway station. It didn’t; it took to some bus terminal and the driver told me to get off. So I took a bus back the way came, trying to retrace my steps. Finally, I had the idea of calling a taxi to take me to a train station. I had not hailed a taxi before because I cannot explain to a taxi driver where to go. Thankfully, I was able to communicate to the second taxi driver I hailed the subway location, and I was back on track.

One of the things that caused me trouble was the similarity between the road names and their different spellings. According to one of my friends, the system used to write the Romanized spellings of the names varies according to what party is in power when the sign is erected. The KMT use one and the DPP another, hence a part of my confusion.