CH1. Life Goes On 17: Departure and Reminisce

Hello, Tim!

I am currently, as predicted, on the airplane directed to Frankfurt, and I already feel like this would be a hard letter to write. Not only does it have to include the previous two weeks and all the major events in the timeframe, these weeks also happen to be some very emotional ones. If time consents, I will also be able to talk about some changes I want make to the blog that I currently am keeping.

I know that I said there would be 13 hours on plane, but I think that I may have forgotten to count in the hours I would need to spend on sleeping. Still, I don’t know if it is a good thing that the seat of a economy-classed is extremely uncomfortable. My back and shoulders are already quite stiff, and there must be more than twelve hours before we land.

A Week of Fujen University

Before I had to start packing, I had willingly jumped at the chance to have a taste of how it feels like to be student in a Taiwanese college. 
I must have said this line so much I am going to call it my catchphrase: "I didn't know what I was expecting." But for this case, it took a more pleasant turn. I expected the professors to be grumpy on an eight-o'clock class with a whole pile of handouts that are riddled with cheap ink, warmly printed. Our professor of the first course was incredibly amiable with a sunny disposition that evidently lit up when her greeting at the class was met with a response from the class as a collection. Before any of the courses started, I was resolute to have as many French-related questions resolved before I leave school for Germany. I didn't dare to bring up about Germany right then, simply because my visa was yet to be issued by the speedy process of the German Institution that are so adamant on make ing my passport arrive on time (we'll get to that later)
At French Grammar, the professor kicked off the class by giving one-to-one pronunciation fixing. Those who didn't read out their French names in the correct intonation or the faultless shape of the mouth will be dragged to the front of the classroom and have your lips altered self-handedly until you get it right. I understand her reasons, and it probably has to do with the importance of the pronunciation, which is what French is mostly about.
And there are my friends. Sabrina, as you must know, studies English as major there as well. She's made a friend that has basically the same schedule as she did, and they hang out together even at lunch. There's Henry, Cherrie, and Fisher, the people I've learnt English with for so long. I go out for lunch with Henry literally every day. We sometimes have free periods before lunch time, so one of us will decide for the both what store to go to and save a seat for the other. Henry is the kind of guy who is introverted most of the time but can really get along with you once he gets to know you, and he can be considerate at times. I really like the time I shared with him, both in the English classes and however short the time my stay was in Fujen. 
On an elective class, the professor talked about his being in the German department, I went to him timidly asking if I could practice a bit of German with him. He happily obliged, and we talked until recess was over when he asked me if I could do the roll call for him
On the day I started taking my school leaving form around the campus, our homeroom teacher had a short talk with me, wishing me good luck on the studies and feel welcome to go back if I feel that going abroad is too much for me. On the second day, as I was taking my chance to go to the school cafeteria for the last time after having finished with the refund application, I bumped into my homeroom teacher once again, who said that she had wanted to talk to me since I left her office on the previous day. We took our meals and sat at the same desk, me listening to her talking about the general atmosphere of the European higher education. She asked me a lot about myself and I got the feeling that she really cares quite a lot for the students under the stern facial expression she normally dons on her face.
All being said, I think that it is a pity to have to leave this place where I really feel like I can thrive, but I won't regret making the choice to reach out and see the world when it's just in my hands.

Dentist

Just for reminders: I got rid of my braces more than a year ago, and after that I have been dealing with aftereffects of cavities and the need for retainers. On a regular check-in with the dentist two weeks ago, I saw with the reclined position the dentist set me the eyes that showed concern. He asked his assistance/nurse to take me to do an X-Ray shoot of my upper right section of my teeth. You could not really see it from the small black hole on the surface of that tooth, but through the penetrating gaze of the X-Ray, it showed that the cavity was so severe already that it was about to reach my nerves, which I narrowly escaped hurting because judging from my endurance with pain, I suppose a poke on my infected nervous system I would be rolling on the asphalt as if someone set fire on my jacket. I have learnt not to push the extent of my pain durability a long time ago.

The only solution to this tribe of demons unwelcomely inhabiting my tooth would be to get rid of the cavity and the nervous system at once, since the remaining calcium layer that stood between my nerves and the cavity was already so thin that a poke of it would expose my pain-sensing mechanisms to the whole world and that would spell pain that would need a word stronger than “searing“ to describe. 

The dentist knew that I would be leaving Taiwan soon, so he kindly tried to compact three separate sessions of treatments into two so that I will be able to have a acceptably protected tooth before I come back next time to install (is this the right word to use for fake teeth) a more durable synthetic one. To be honest, it still perplexes me somehow, considering myself quite a diligent teeth-cleaner, that I still can procure such a horrible cavity prowling in the corner of my mouth.

Since it is an ordeal to fix my broken tooth that would be time-consuming, I have already made appointments with the dentist to tend to my needs in December when I return.

Vietnamese Food - My Farewell Party

Last week Sunday, Cathy and Melody organized a farewell party/dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant Cathy favored. Without this dinner, I won’t really understand how dearly I would miss that dynamic of EHP in the last two years. Around the plastic round table, nine of us sat and snugged closely due to the relatively narrow space provided by the restaurant. We didn’t seem to mind, though, since most of those present are the ones that gets along the most - Sabrina could not be there because her finger was hurt when she slipped on the sidewalk on a rainy day and needed rest; Jay told me that he could not come since he is already facing pressure in the teaching business he somehow acquired but showed up anyway. There was not really a one-to one conversation by the table; instead, it would be talks on different topics that is more likely to be addressed to the collective of us, just like making family announcements. It was the precious moments I value more than the appreciation for the food. One for another, our class has developed into something that fits beyond the definition of a class, and the proof seeps out from our playful banters and the all-addressing conversations.

Add William and Allison to this picture and we have everyone at the table.

I have fallen in love with EHP as a whole, and it seems that the others have been so as well. Melody, for example, visits Amy on a very frequent  frequency, and Amy is now sharing the rent with Selena, who just got a boyfriend and is targeted by the others girls and me (it was half-threatening and half-playful. I hope so.)

Cathy campus is now very close to where Candy lives, and that meet up as well, for occasions like pancake dates and regular dinners. Things will certainly change when the university lives of ours, so different like to petals of snowflakes, take up more and more of our freee time, but I hope whatever this is, this familial love, this camaraderie, and this carefree attitude, will never change.

Eliza’s Departure

If I have yet to bring this up in  any of my previous letters, here it is now: Eliza is also going to study abroad, in England. Due to my very belated revelation that there would be some issues relating to her privacy, I will not talk about which school she will attend to, but be assured that her school is very well-known and way beyond me. Just like her intelligence compared to mine. 

This event is one of the first that struck me rather greatly. We have been playmates since we were born. Due to the mere three-month difference of birth, we never really feel the need to address each other with uncle/niece (I am sure that I explained this anomaly once already. I will NOT go back to that again.)

I wouldn’t say that we two are inseparable, given that she has her own circle of friends as I have my own; there are also some times where we barely kept contact. But I know she will be there, like the wall of plush dolls that has been ever-present in her room : The presence of it is hard to ignore, but you will not address it every time you see it.

I would like to say that our relationship is mutually beneficial, but it is not quite correct. I am the one who runs to her for help on a variety of occasions, and she would help me and give me pieces of advice that have been helpful: She helped me proofread my motivation letter for German school application and calmed me down through cell phone when I became very stressed out about my Skype interview. The most substantial help I ever gave her would be running errands to get butter for her frequent baking sessions and some everyday stationery. Yet, I know that relationship is not measured like this because it is not only the help you give that adds to the heaviness and sturdiness of it. The long years spending time together growing up formed a tight bond, and her leaving for England felt very different from her traveling to Europe or Japan for vacation or going to the East-Asia for volunteering work with her friends (she build houses, if I remember correctly). The knowledge that she would be levaing for a long time was loud and clear when she started packing away her essentials to leave; it was just that easy to see that she was not packing for a ten-day trip when she was cramming her seventh pair of shoes into the fifth XL-sized luggage case (I don’t think this is hyperbole I mean what I wrote.) True, that in several days time she would be in England (she has already settled down at this point) and y being in Germany meant that I will be the family member that lives the closet to her, but that didn’t stop me to set the clock at 5:40 in the morning to seeing her part (along with her parents) on the airport service car. Please notice that in this letter there will be many mentions of me crying, but by crying I am not referring to the sob until my eyes puffed out and my nose involuntarily sniffing like a rabbit. I dropped tears, and they are big and fat, like the raindrops on the window panes)

She gave me a picture she printed out from a miniature printer she planned to bring to England but had to abort the idea since she already had too much to carry. She expected me to come since I asked her when she was going to leave on the next day. It was a picture of both of us, standing by a harbor in England, me still chubby and her hair not yet dyed pink. Behind the pictures are some heartfelt words I hope to keep only for myself.

Eliza will have the time of her life in England, and her aptitude of getting along with any given environment will help her cope with various problems she will encounter, but I hope to make her understand that even though that I am not someone who handles problems with suaveness or as efficient as she does, I will be there for her, and the “will” written here and written for her is solid as rock.

Tying up Loose Ends Basically Everywhere

I won’t say I do a great job with managing my connections: It’s a torn up ball of yarn you simply give up to try untie it, and that often means that when I have some life-changing updates (like this occasion of moving to Germany for education)  to announce, I will have to do it one-on-one, and it takes up a lot of time. I am desperate to connect with the people I love and the people I lie, but at the same time my calendar tell me somehow that it is just impossible to do all of them. Some people require more time than the others, and for some a quick message and several back and forth of online message (bless the technology nowadays) would suffice. It all depends on different people. Last Friday, after I finished with the school-leaving process, I paid a visit to the teachers in CCSH, hoping to give them a direct, face-to-face update of my future whereabouts. Summer is just very hyped about the fact that I will be heading for Heidelberg, which is also a part of Germany’s tourist destinations. Our civics teacher noticed that I didn’t sound as excited she thought I should be, and I ended up spending more than ten minutes talking about my everlasting doubts about leaving Taiwan, my family, and my friends; about attending a costly private school without my first consideration for a major and the pressure that comes with it; about how big a pity it is to leave Fujen and the wonderful teachers I was so lucky to meet. Our civics teacher just listened, eyebrows creased with attentiveness. She didn’t berate me for having this kind of doubts, instead, she told me to keep an open mind about all alternative options and feel free to come back to Taiwan if I really can’t get accustomed to the education in Germany. My math teacher, on the other hand, marveled at the estimated cost of spending three years abroad according to his own estimation. (He’s a math teacher with a kid, which means he has got to be sensitive with money) Coincidence or not I felt my head cleared up a bit, like some nebulous fog has partially been lifted.On Sunday I was invited not only to the previously mentioned farewell party with EHP but also to lunch with my beloved English teachers: Eric and Villy (and Villy’s brother, Aaron, who is also a teacher in the same cram school) They wanted to give me some more advice and have more casual talks before I really leave for Germany. Talking with them has proved to be perfect timing to try to advance my speaking skills, for even though my general skills of self-expression has grown these days due to the longs hours spent on talking with the girls, I really don’t have much chance to do the same thing in English. Therefore, I pushed myself to try to retell my week in Fujen to them is a more logical fashion. It didn’t turn out so well as stuttering and repetition kept happening, but I knew that there will be more change for me to learn. Villy and Eric told me, kindly, that they will be visiting Germany next year during summer vacation, and if needed, they could come into contact with my mom to see if there is anything she wants me to have in Germany, and they will bring them to me by luggage. It was an awfully kind gesture, and I am thankful for them.

The previous Monday I went to the movies with Cathy to watch a Japanese animation that is created by a blooming director. Cathy’s Mondays have always been free after she got into university, with only three hours of Japanese starting from 6p.m. 

On Tuesday, I went back to Fujen to have lunch with Henry since he asked me if there could be one last meal before I take off. Sure thing, I said, given that there was also a need to visit the dentist who tended to my cavities in another clinic of his, which is located in the peripherals of Fujen. There with Henry I had one of the biggest slab of deep-fried pork chop in my life. With a small-sized pork chop it took up half of the plate, which made me wonder what kind of monster we will see if we ordered the large-sized. The meat itself was juicy and well-flavored, and unlike the fried pork chop you normally see in stores, they don’t cover the chops with too much bread crumbs to make it look bigger; no, the largesse of this chop was meat in its entirety. Before leaving for the dentist’s appointment, I took a detour to find Sabrina and tell her that I would be leaving soon.

Visa

Now. This is ancient key that unlocks the door that lead you to the next level of “Trying to Study Abroad?” And it is a herd level to beat. One and half a month ago, I went to the 33rd floor of Taipei 101 business building to send out my application for a visa. I didn’t know what I was thinking when I half-expected that it would run smoothly as it is greased with astroglide ()I have no idea what or how that works, but I think I had read about it somewhere) despite the numerous complaints and recounts I read from the Internet the clearly stated that if would be advisable to apply for your visa at least two months before your departure if you don’t want to face a panic attack and a meltdown. There are some other previous applicants that said things like “Still, things can still go horribly wrong like having them lose your passport in the process, and that’s just your bad luck.” Sometimes, I really feel the need to reflect upon how I invest and distribute my optimism.

Anyway, I was already having tons of pressure upon my shoulders when there were no news coming from the German Institute, my repulsing ignorance somehow veiled a very specific e-mail from me. The one telling me that my visa application was processed to a particular stage where my intended day of arrival and the insurance is required.

For three days.

That lost me a great deal of time, and the repercussion gave me a fright I don’t ever want to try again.

I pushed away other tasks of the moment and started to pull through my insurance, which still made less sense than a mortar brick to me right then. On the Internet, a blog keeper who wrote down her application in details wrote that by this point, with seven working days of waiting, you might get your visa, fresh from the Institution. Well, that was not the case for me. On Tuesday, I received another letter that asked for additional documents. I panicked but was trying to keep a cool head and asked my agency to confirm what is the most efficient way to let them run all the details smoothly. I did as the agency advised, and kept waiting, but it seemed like the rollercoaster ride hadn’t reached the peak and the free fall yet. Two days after that, I got the most perplexing email ever. The Institution wrote to ask me of “my intended day of arrival and the insurance confirmation”, which I sent out more than a week ago. It was downright terrifying. When you think about the plane tickets and the hotel my cousin booked for my first few days of arrival, sided with the possibility of not getting enrolled into the school because I did not arrive it in time, it felt like a silent, pitch-black night had dawned around my eyes; it was hard to focus on the fact, but at the same time you know that you should. I tried calling the desk of the Institution, but every call picked up by every different voice directed me with clipped tones that I should be writing to the email of the visa department instead of calling them. You might ask, why call the desk so many times when they already gave you such clear instructions? I guess, the answer probably lies behind the fact that for every call made almost every day, it was preceded with a letter written to the visa department, all of which received no reply or any sort of attention. On the fifth letter, which was written on Friday, which is just ONE DAY before my flight. I printed out all the required documents and went reluctantly to take the metro to Taipei 101, at the request of my cousin, who asked me to go to them and beg them to hand me the visa, which guaranteed a practical 0% of chance to get an approval.

We did everything we could. I consulted the on-site help center, I made several calls to have my head banged against the wall multiple times, and I wrote to them to have the same things done to me again, and we even went praying at temples to ask for the visa! Someone will find this baffling.

Midway, however, I saw a figurative sunshine coming from the inbox of my e-mail. They finally replied. The first paragraph read, “Due to to the small capacity of our server, please do not send multiple letter with similar questions to us, or there will be a chance that you will be marked as spam. We are now coping with the peak of visa application. Therefore, please wait patiently for the reply.” My heart sank. This was not the news I was waiting for…

I read on.

“Your visa as well as your passport had been sent to a certain speed delivery company on 26.09.2019 (which was Thursday), and your client number will be XXXXXXXX…… Have a nice day.” I jumped off the metro the moment the door slid open and the boulder that had been weighing me down was finally removed.

You possibly guessed that the visa arrived in time, given that I am now on plane (by the way, we are above the land of Finland, and there are around two hours left to this flight. My back is killing me with this quite insufficient space I was provided with.). But for me, there was no way to be absolutely sure that this would be happening two days ago, and all that constructed a joyride to hell for me.

Before Departure and Mayhem

Dad came back two days ago. We had dinner together, and he had to leave for work sooner than we expected. He kept warning me about not to give help with luggages because you never know what might be in the luggages the others bring, and there is a chance that it is something that can get you arrested. I woke up with Mom the next day and took the taxi with her to the convenience store she works at (it was raining heavily). My computer was running out of battery, so I needed to head back home. I went to Eliza’s place to borrow the key to our house because I am being the forgetful me again, and there I met my aunt, the grandma of Eliza, who was alone in the kitchen making pumpkin juice with honey. I accepted a cup from her and sat at the dining table and talked to her for a while. With her granddaughter leaving for England, she must have felt lonely, too. I went back to my mother’s store again, and had lunch over there while reading through every email from the school to make sure that I have all the required documents prepared already. I then went back home to take my documents to get more copies. Mom and I agreed to meet again at the department store to get the things I still need.

With the uncertainty of the visa, at first, I didn’t know to which extent to I have to pack my luggage, but at some point I decided that I would have to do the whole thing anyway. I put down a checklist that has everything I could think of and started doing the shopping for anything I still missed. Even on Saturday, I still lack a waterproof jacket, some charging cables, and the copies of some important documents. My uncle came at around five thirty, when Mom and I were shouting at each other as we argued what to use to make my luggage more discernible. This was the part of day I hated. I was about to leave house and my mom and we still had the time to fight a small thing like this? I curse my hotheadedness. With my plan scheduled to leave at 23:15. We saved enough time for dinner as well as time for those who told me they will come to bid me farewell: Cathy, Melody, and Henry from my English class.

My aunt and my grandma came along, and we had dinner first. Henry was there soon enough, and before long, Cathy and Melody came out of nowhere. It was still a weird combination, seeing people from two major parts of my life are clashing together, but with Henry been introverted in front of strangers, I had to remind myself to save some time for him as well, for he not only came all the way to see me take off, that day was his birthday as well. I was facing the three of them, talking about something, when someone tapped me on the shoulders, and from another direction came a familiar voice that addressed me. I turned around and saw Candy, who was holding her new cell phone with the red case we ordered together online; Selena, standing a little at the back with a guy next to her - her boyfriend, presumably; Amy, who got a bang wrapped around her knee, where she hurt herself when she fell down a day ago; and Sherry, who came with a newly-permed hairstyle. They have planned this surprise all along, and it succeeded, and I was speechless.They told me that I could have saw them when they were ordering burgers, but apparently I was too preoccupied with all my luggages that I did not notice. It was completely touching, them planning this without me knowing. Cathy told me that Candy couldn’t come because she had activities at school. I was the truth, as I later learned, it was just that Candy didn’t took part in it; Melody told me that Amy won’t be coming because she had to go back home to get something. They were there nonetheless.

I really couldn't believe that they came!

William said that he had to practice dancing  because there will be a performance from his theater class soon, and… he didn’t come, for that was what he was doing.

We laughed and talked, and Cathy put Angela on FaceTime and it was like she was here as well. It was soon time for me to put the luggages for them to put with other large cases. I brought to the airport one big suitcase and a large duffel bag for the plane to carry, and one suitcase, one duffel bag, and one backpack for carry on. However, as I learned from the lady at the check in, that there can only be one carry on luggage and one backpack, which means I would have to make a choice between the small duffel bag or the small suit case.

The limit for carry-on luggage is 7 kilograms, and the luggage alone took up 3 kg. With little problem, we chose the duffel bag. We took my leather shoes out of the shoe box and stuffed them into another bag and moved my books into my backpack (which made it incredibly heavy at this point.) I almost broke down when I was told to leave a book behind, which, in hindsight, was quite a foolish thing to do, but you know that I am never really conscious when it comes to my books.

Mom

When people cry at goodbyes, there are so many reasons behind it. You cry, because you are reminded by the past you share with one person, the times you laughed at the same thing, time meals that you’ve cooked together, the same trips you went on together; you cry because you don’t know when the next time seeing them will be, and a tidbit of your heart fear that this would be the last time you see them; you cry because the other one is crying, and when you try to speculate the reasons why they cry, you fall into the first two types. People cry at goodbyes for many reasons. In the past 24 hours, I did all three of them. Cathy gave me a small, blu, handmade book, with a collections of words from different people in the EHP written to me. Saying goodbye to them drew some tears from me, hugging them drew some more, and the tap water opened when I said goodbye to my mother. (Here it goes again. It’s just that easy for me to be sentimental.) 

Even though my mother always believes otherwise, she has been just as supportive to me as my cousin, who helped me with the application and the tuition. (My cousin is probably waiting at the airport of Frankfurt already. It’s about time to land.)

Self Reflection

After these weeks of labour and several suffocating days we spent waiting , I noticed that there are some flaws regarding to the problem I met midway of the application process of both for the schools and for the visa. Opposite from what I used to see myself, I don't deal with urgent business with a signature suaveness that is as cool as a cucumber; instead, I toss it around like a rock that's been exposed to direct sunlight in the Sahara, knocking down several boxes and a glass jar running around and bellowing at anyone who stops and comes around to check if I am okay, all the same time clawing and crawling to the words of excuses I always find little comfort in.
I was still studying the different insurance plans right then, but then the visa email ticked in and then my nerves simply took flight. I grasped at any easy way to get my insurance plan only to gain one with an insufficient duration of the insurance plan. To fix this in the hots of the moment, I jumped at another insurance company that provides quick process WITHOUT making sure whether the insurance plans could be cancelled or be switched to another plan. I'm like a very big rabbit that runs toward the ferocious wolf instead of away when pursued. I make things worse in time of emergency, which are actually the times I should really be all there to cope with. Mom would give me extremely valid and at the very least sensible solutions, only to find herself shouted at. I feel nothing but disdain for this side of me, so I am resolute to get rid of this nasty façade of me.I think at sometime of my life I need to really learn that rushing things don't always take you to the destination you are looking for. But at least I now know what is wrong with me; I get a whole bunch of time to have this dealed with.

Landing

I flicked open the window panel that is said to block out the cold air from outside, at the altitude of ten thousand meters, beyond the grey clouds, the several stripes of blue punching through. The descent has begun. I could feel the plane dipping lower, then lower, until you can see lights from down below. I recalled the takeoff, as the metal bird pulled up slightly tiling up as it cut through the heavy rainclouds. I tried to marvel at the lightning you can distinctly see from the windows. I tried to ignore the possibility of us getting struck by lightning; should that happen, it is destiny and sheer bad luck.

With a thud and a very busy and speedy landing, we are now in Frankfurt.

I have yet finished with my letter, and the following day seems to be very event-packed. I will find time to finish it, but the adventures of this Sunday probably will have to wait until next week.

Wir warten darauf, was auf mich wartet. (Let’s wait and see what awaits me)

Sincerely,

Hugo