We finished off the previous letter by concluding that I would have to come back to Taiwan and endure firstly, a fourteen-day quarantine. And this week was when it began.
Days Before the Departure
This idea of coming back to Taiwan was more decided on a whim. I had this revelation right after getting informed by my cousin that the date of the ticket was set, that I would have to say goodbye to Germany again. To be honest, I was not expecting the "going back to Taiwan" thing would be a seasonal thing, and somehow I was exerting more energy to deal with the fact. I guess I was too eager to exert my own independence, and I saw how staying in Germany in times of a virus outbreak might be a way of doing so. As a closure, I went to the museum and the riverside with Johannes and the other boys last week, and even though I would rather spend more time outside than in, it was still a bit too risky to head out again, objectively speaking. Still, I spent as much time as possible with the people in the dorm, for some might not be there anymore after my return. I'm talking about Abhidha, who got a student job from a German company in Stuttgart, and her contract for the dorm would be expired by the end of March. She's a really dear friend, and even though it pains to see all my friends leave one by one, but that is just life; it's not only me that has a life course to follow, and no one should be forcing anyone to stay, for you simply don't have the right of doing so, and also that it doesn't pose as a characteristic of a friend if you aren't willing to let the others move on with their lives. The same end-of-March contract also applies to Johannes, but since he still has some unfinished business with his thesis, chances are that I will still see him when I go back.
On the day before my departure, Johannes taught me how to make the traditional German dishes Spätzle and Knödel, both of which are simple in terms of ingredients and preparation, but was intriguing to make, especially the Spätzle, which was made by scraping thin stands of a rather watery dough off a board into boiling water.
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| Johannes calls the Knödel a "poor man's dish" since that was what mothers in the past used to make with whatever leftover ingredients they didn't want to waste. |
There was also an evening where I went to Jackey's room with the other Taiwanese and Jason to enjoy a night of karaoke; I was sure that we were pretty loud, but I was also pretty sure that we weren't't the loudest right then, and we also ended at around ten in the evening.
Frankfurt Hotel
It was the day before our flight, Jackey and Yu left in the morning to Frankfurt. Since our flight was set to be at 10:40, and we didn't really want to rush all the way from Heidelberg to Frankfurt, racing against the sunrise. The conclusion was sealed with a hotel booking of a room for two and the plan of smuggling the third into the room. The two guys planned to do some shopping in the afternoon while I wanted to take my time and spend some last-minute pleasure in Heidelberg, which explained why they departed first; after all, we will meet at the hotel later on the day. Harish also planned to leave for India three days before our flight, but it was blown due to a catastrophic accident on his side. It took him three days and a travel to Mannheim to have the obstacle removed, and he fortunately got a last-minute ticket around the time I was to leave the dorm as well.
I bade farewell to the guys in the kitchen, gave Abhidha a parting hug, and I left.
There wasn't much fuss on my way to Frankfurt, and I met with Yu and Jackey in front of Prada in Frankfurt. It was very nice of them to bring my luggage case along when they left in the morning, and that helped me volumes when we walked across the city, three Taiwanese guys wearing masks.
Frankfurt is a city with a very modern cityscape, which reminded me of Taipei and Banciao, respectively where the Taipei 101 and my grandma's community are located in. Maybe I can spend some time exploring this place in the future.
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| Frankfurt city. |
We walked until the sun set, and went back to the airport hotel, where we met Jackey's sister, who just canceled her exchange program and was also heading back to Taiwan on the same flight.
In the hotel room, we had dinner, a white wine, and took our own showers. I had a video call with Johannes, and we retired to our bed early, for fear that we might miss out on our flight. We three shared a queen-sized bed, and in the blurry midnight daze, I, who slept in the middle of the bed, got it in my head to escape the blanket by transporting myself on top of the sheets, which prevented Yu from getting more coverage of the blanket when he felt cold, and he said he hated me for that.
Sometimes it still sweeps me off my feet, knowing how accepting and bearing my friends are for me, judging on how many intentional/unintentional crazy antics I've pulled on them. I guess I can only be thankful.
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| White wine evening. |
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| Morning preparation |
Our flight was a direct one, which was something good, as in times like this, it is better to stay on the transport system as short as possible. Some people would advice against using the toilets and having the meals on the planes, but the mentioned pieces of advice don't make sense to me at all. One needs to eat and answer to the nature's call to live, you understand that?
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| There was next to no people in a normally crowded airport. |
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| Most of the flights were cancelled anyway. |
Jackey and Yu had their seats in the upgraded economic class, but I had my own little paradise in the normal economic as the two seats next to me were empty; a lucky feat given that the majority of the seats were taken.
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| Our plane. |
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| Lucky seats. |
On the plane, I had all the meals possible and watched Frozen 2 for the third time, this time in French, and I had a good time with little time for sleep.
The plane landed at around seven in the morning, and it marked the beginning of my life in quarantine.
Outline of My Quarantine
There are much more I can provide about my life as a patient in the home quarantine program, but I want to save all the details to the next letter, for I have something even better.
In Cathy's most recent English assignment, she was asked to make an adaption of a renowned painting and write an entry about it. She had no clue what to draw and what to write about it, so we had a telephone call about the project and she decided on drawing my quarantine time in the painting of Van Gogh's The Bedroom in Arles, and I wrote an entry just for the fun of it (Cathy, as a responsible and grown adult, insisted on writing her entry on her own; very sensible)
Anyway, here is the said picture, which I now set as my laptop background picture:
And here is my entry, imagining how Cathy would complete it from her perspectives. Also, it covers some truth about my life here in my own house, and we'll call it a week from here.
~
La Chambre à butts, or the bedroom in Arles, is a painting created by the Dutch artist Vincent van Gogh. In the three identical paintings he captured the interior of his bedroom, in the small yellow house he used to share with the painter Gauguin in Provence, France.
It is a bedroom that is quite crammed with a nondescript set of furniture. In the third version of the painting of the room, the walls are painted with a shade of pastel blue, which provided a more balanced lighting in the room. It was not a room of extravagance, but the simplicity of it radiates an artistry of its own.
It is known that Van Gogh used to be troubled by his mental issues, which eventually lead to his cutting of his left ear. In the role of an artistic, I admire his curious way of portraying the universe that surrounded him, and it was supposedly his unconventional state of mind that brought him to this style of creation. Also, his borderline insanity reminded me of my friend Hugo, who seemed to have stick his head in the bathtub for a bit too long in his childhood – he’s inexplicably weird. He also happens to be in quarantine. He constantly tells me how depressing his life after returning temporarily from Germany is, with nothing much to do while feeling the need to battle with the desire to dash onto the streets. I made the connection between him and the room painted under the lyrical strokes of Van Gogh’s paintbrush, and decided to make this adaption.
I tried to picture how his behavior would be in a space as shown in the painting, supported by his incessant nagging about how he spends his days, half his body suspending from the edge of the bed, just hanging, which was more like a slab of meat at the butchers rather than a living person. I put that down into my rendition of the painting.
Knowing him for years, it is always safer to assume that his surrounding is messier than an average, disheveled environment. I let his items scatter across the room haphazardly, and quoting his own words after seeing my creation, he said it’s a “pretty apt depiction”. Masks and spraying bottles of disinfectant alcohol must also be present due to the Coronavirus, which was also the reason behind his days of isolation. Reportedly, he reads some books while playing music throughout the days, and when he doesn’t know what to do anymore, he eats the time away with tons of junk food, which is also taking a toll on his state of mind. There are also some details I scribbled into the drawing, including the replaced portraits of his and mine, a sketch of a pot of tea, and his favorite Pokemon, etc.
After finishing my work, I would say that Hugo’s presence in Van Gogh’s room slightly diminished the sense of tranquility as well as my positive perception of this painting.
I guess I might as well just go back to the original picture.
End
Even by the end of the next week, I will not be able to escape the monotony of the walls that confined me, ball and chains and all, to this isolation (though with the company of Eliza; more on the next letter), but all will be gone soon.
Hopefully.
Sincerely,
Hugo
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