I flew to London two weeks ago for a university interview. The can of worms I previously mentioned has been emptied, the worms have slithered their way along different paths ranging from teaching in Italy to working at the Olympics but the one I have chosen is…university-bound. I’m going home to get my teaching degree in order to help me fulfill the big dream of living in a hot country somewhere running my own tiny little school on a beach, where everyone is chilled (slash drunk on cocktails) and where Beyonce casually strolls by to say hello. Obviously.

ANYWAY, for some reason I decided it would be a great idea to buy a flight with a 16 hour layover in Shanghai. Without really knowing whether I could leave the airport, I checked in in Taipei, asked several different Taiwanese people if I could leave the airport in China. All of them gave me different, contradicting answers which left me on  a very turbulent flight to a crazy-ass country not knowing where the hell I was going (hmm where I have heard that before?!). I got off the flight, secretly thanked God for keeping me alive through a thunderstorm and asked again if I could leave the airport. Eventually I was referred to an crazy old lady with strangely frizzy hair for a Chinese who screamed “ARRIVAL CARD” in my face a few times, before I realised she needed it to give me a transit stamp, allowing me 24 hours in a brand new country! Of course, I somehow made a random new Taiwanese friend, who of course had a free hotel room from the airline and of course, because I’m just so wonderfully  charming and wonderful, invited me to stay. So there I was, randomly in Shanghai, with a random, in a random hotel. Fun times.

Rooftop hotel in Shanghai.

My next stop was London. And after another ridiculously turbulent flight (can’t really say I’d recommend China Airlines anymore) I was home. Collected and whisked off to a wonderful hotel on the river by the good ol’ boyf, it didn’t take me long to remember why I loved London and all the people and things that go with it. After a few days chin wagging and eating far too much good food, I had my interview, partied a little more and left to come back East-side. BUT – not without another recruit. That’s right, I’ve shipped another Londoner to Taiwan. Ross is settling in quickly, found a job, an apartment in the same building as us and is on his way to becoming a true expat.

View from the Hilton

Homies on a Friday night

Pizza, a glass of wine (or 4) and la familia.

Next stop. Hong Kong. What was meant to be a 2 hour layover, actually ended up being 2 minutes. We were rushed off the first plane and onto the next without a second thought for our poor luggage. Arriving in Taipei and standing at baggage claim, my gut instinct told me something wasnt right. My beautiful pink suitcase lay lonely somewhere a few hundred miles away and I had no idea, nor the language capability to work out how to get it back. As it turns out, my dear friends at work spoke to the Cathay Pacific guys (also not recommended) and I was reunited with my Fuchsia lover that very same evening.

Back in Taiwan I only had about 48 hours before I was back at the airport and on a plane to Singapore. We booked cheap flights a while ago after I insisted it was something I had to do before I die. You see, I already had an emotional attachment with this country even though I’d never even stepped foot in it. I have a uncle and aunt in Singapore. They have 3 children. I am as related to them as I am to my close cousins in the UK and yet I knew nothing about them. Until of course I got there and the amazing Moon Wong chauffeured us around like royalty, giving us the best of Singapore in 2 days. This included the Singapore Flyer – the biggest wheel in the world, the night safari (elephants, hippos, rhinos, lions, hyenas and bears included) little India, and Sentosa… a whole beach island they have converted into a dedicated grown up playground complete with indoor skydiving, universal studios, beach bars, casinos and hotels. HELLO PARADISE. I met some friends of my Dad, ate some good food and basically declared the entire country absolutely perfect (although this is also because they gas all mosquitos and therefore have eradicated one of the biggest banes of my life).

self-explanatory.

That’s a boat on top of 3 buildings…!?

Back in Taiwan I have now been accepted into uni and am on the final countdown to going home before starting the next big adventure. With the course only being a grand total of 10 months, I’m pretty sure it won’t be long before I get itchy feet again and fly away. That is of course to a different country, different city and armed with a totally different CV. I’ll have my teaching license, 3 years experience AND most importantly… those all-important new stamps in my little British passport.

DO HAVE 1 OF YOUR BEST FRIENDS FLY TO ASIAto say hello and to see your new world. Hayley struggled with chopsticks and scooter rides butI managed to wow her with a trip to the picturesque natural jacuzzi’s in the mountains, huge bustling night markets and cheap as chips local-style tapenyaki.

Hot Springs

UK meets Taiwan

DO MEET YOUR LONG DISTANCE BOYFin Bangkok and have him organise a 2 day itinerary of shopping in the world’s largest outdoor market and mani/pedi’s. I loved Bangkok. Despite its reputation (which is completely true, it is dirty, smelly and full of hasslers) the shopping, food and transport were amazing.

It's real!

DO TAKE A FLIGHT TO PHUKETand spend 6 days in tropical paradise trying to recall that distant memory of work, screaming Chinese children and that vague idea of responsibility. Koh Phi Phi is the most magical place I’ve ever been to. There are no cars, just a few bicycles and the odd motorcycle to move things around. That in itself is like therapy for someone coming not only from London, but from crazy crowded Hsinchu where giants roads are their signature look.  Whilst in paradise I managed to ride an elephant, hold a monkey, snorkel with 10,000 tropical fish, kayak at sunset, watch the boyfriend get drunk from drinking too many buckets on the beach and buy far too many items of clothing that aren’t suitable for work or life in freezing England.

Elephant love.

Koh Phi Phi.

DO FLY HOME UNEXPECTEDLY unbeknown to all friends and family and have an entire 48 hours of screaming SURPRISE! to those who never expected to see your face. This included my Mum at work who burst into tears and my closest girlfriends at the Sanctuary Spa who deafened me. (Quite literally. I still haven’t quite managed to get my hearing back to normal since that day). I ‘ve discovered a wonderful new hobby this way. Surprising people never got old, I’d pay £600 just to fly home, say surprise and leave again!

Happy Birthday Mum!

The Sanctuary.

DO SPEND TIME WITH AS MANY PEOPLE AS YOU CAN before flying home. These people are the people that kept in touch the last 6 months, people who remind me of where I came from and where I’m going.

DON’T DISREGARD A MINOR SORE THROAT when abroad. Asit turns out, the last day of my holiday turned into the start of something disgusting. Luckily I was armed with tranquillizers and antibiotics, but little did I know, it was the onset of glanduar fever. By the time I had gotten home and the adrenaline of surprising people had worn off I was ridiculously sick with no voice and no ability to swallow.

DON’T FLY AIR INDIA. Like, ever. We flew from Bangkok to Delhi, then Delhi to Heathrow with this wonderfully unprofessional airline who took it upon themselves to argue in front of passengers, give us cold egg cakes for dinner, scream at us to move bags at 3 in the morning and sneeze far too theatrically for my liking. The in-fight entertainment isn’t real in-flight entertainment unless you call the 1970′s version of Sherlock Holmes entertainment. The stewards aren’t real stewards. They’re your average 60 year old Indian aunty wearing a sari with unbrushed hair who might as well be a grumpy passenger. Luckily I was knocked out for the vast majority of our 30 hour ordeal, but the boyfriend had to endure what can only be described as a flight from last century. Before technology and the idea of hairspray had made their way to the middle East.

DON’T CANCEL TOO MANY PLANS when sick. After my binge on surprising people I then proceeded to make plans on every single day of my London trip. On most days I had booked some kind of breakfast, lunch, dinner or drinks to make sure I got to see everyone I wanted to before heading East. However, this isn’t possible with glandular fever. And lots of my plans got cancelled. For those I didn’t manage to see, I promise next time I come bearing Asian gifts and duty free goodies.

DON’T GET TOO ATTACHED, you’ve got to go back. I had no idea 6 months ago that I would be back so soon. As it turns out I missed everyone way more than I thought I did and returning to Asia, as much as I love this place was a lot more difficult than I anticipated. It took me longer to settle back in and I found myself still working on London time for about 10 days after arriving back in Taiwan.

DON’T GET RUN OVER. After about a week of being back, I took a trip downtown and followed a friend on a route I wasn’t familiar with. Happily humming away on my tiny little 50cc scooter (Beyonce obviously) I turned onto a busy road and was completely unaware that in about 5 seconds time I’d be flat out on the floor like a starfish with a potential broken arm. The car and I collided. I screamed far too loudly for a sophisticated, civillised Asian country and landed on my right arm in the middle of a main road, which thankfully after an X-ray showed no broken bones. The driver picked my scooter up, mumbled something in Chinese, asked if I was OK and drove off. In shock I left my scooter downtown and took a taxi to the hospital. When I tell Taiwanese people this story they give me dagger eyes for not asking the driver for a lift to the emergency room or demanding payment of my hospital fees. Apparently this is the protocol here, and I was taken advantage of by not knowing these unwritten rules.

Luckily for me I have wonderful friends who bought me a new flashy Union Jack helmet with the idea that it would encourage me to get back on. 3 weeks later I’m driving. I might be yelling ‘b*stard’ and ‘p*ick’ every now and then, but at least I’m back on.

Helmet Hugs

Since this little accident I’ve had to rethink the whole “I’m going to spend another year in this wonderful country” concept. As much as I love Taiwan, the idea of spending another year on these killer roads doesn’t really do much for me. I’m now looking into different countries and different options. Winter Break has been incredible. The Do’s and Dont’s have taught me many lessons and opened the infamous can of worms for what to do next.

Room with a view.

7.15

First thing to do in this bi-polar climate is look out the window. It’s pretty consistent (ironically) that whatever it’s like in the morning, it will be like for the rest of the day. Occasionally it will change half way through the day (I’m talking like 10 degree drop or increase) but mostly, you can bet if it’s raining in the morning it’ll be raining ALL day, and likewise if its sunny, and so on. So, first thing, check the weather.  It’s cloudy. Don my sexy sweatpants and fake Abercrombie tee, do the usual girls 40-minute getting-ready-for-work routine, grab helmet, Starbucks thermos and take the lift down 13 storeys.

8:15

Pack the scooter. Although the whole idea of having your own mode of transport is that you can carry more with ease, my boot (slash trunk) is teeny weeny and I have to strategically pack my bag, books and essential full body raincoat (just in case) into the 10inch by 10inch space. Then there’s the 20 minute commute along the terrifying freeway. Which -thank the Lord- is becoming less and less terrifying the more I drive.

All the cars/lorries/tractors (no joke) and any other crazy vehicle you can name sit in gridlock. The Taiwanese treat riding a scooter as if they were playing on little plastic motorcycles in their back garden. If there is more than half a meter between you and the guy in front some idiot will almost certainly speed up like crazy, cut you up, only to then brake insanely quickly making you brake even quicker and the guy behind you too. This happens repeatedly through the entire crawl until you get off the freeway and onto the wide normal roads when all those scooters that wanted to overtake you earlier (but couldnt because you left less than half a meter) then zoom past you at twice the speed and weave in and out the traffic.

9:15

Making it to school and coffee in hand, it’s now time to face the music and enter K2A classroom. My assistant is on the ball, even at 9am and already has the kids school bags organised, communication books on my desk, tracing books ready for the 1^st lesson and breakfast being served. I wander in, say good morning and begin reading all the parents responses to the 3 sentences I wrote yesterday. “Karen will not take the school bus today”. “Peggy spoke English at home last night”. “Thanks for helping Isaac change his pants.” – my pleasure.

10:15 – Tracing lesson is now well under way and I can hear the constant cries of “I need to eraser” or “ayer Michelle my crayonnnn”, “may you sharpen my pencil?”. As it’s the end of the semester we are racing to complete A-Z and whilst some children already have the most beautiful handwriting there are others who are still learning how to hold a pencil. Then there’s always the kid who thinks it’s hilarious to write his ‘W’ page as a simple solitary zig zag from one side to the other.

11:15

Having endured my constant erasing of errors and screams to hurry up, I give the kids of K2A a break and take them to the playground. I use the term ‘break’ losely as there are a few rules I impose very heavily. 1. You speak Chinese, you sit out for 1 minute.  2. If you want to play with a certain toy you must approach the person and say “you have 2 minutes left, then it’s my turn”. 3. If someone is doing something you don’t like, you cannot hit. You must say “STOP. I don’t like it.” To this end, after a semester of drilling and drilling and drilling, K2A can now fully govern themselves at playtime. I even have 2 ‘little helpers’ who patrol the playground listening for anybody who might be speaking Chinese or not adhering to the script. This leaves me able to sit back with the 2 kids who like to play with my hair and massage me. Their idea, I swear.

12:15

After playtime, lunch is served and the kids then brush their teeth and head into bed. Naptime lasts from 12 to 2. Most teachers use this time to plan lessons, fill in paper work etc. Not me. No no. The kids nap. I nap. Oh yes. Most days I sleep at least half an hour. I even have my own little blanket and pillow. When I’m ill (which is far too frequently for my liking) I will sleep for the full 2 hours. Best job ever.

1:15 – Communication book time. There are a whole load of boxes to check. Behaviour: excellent, good, ok, argue, fight. Attitude towards school work: Fully participated, participated, distracted, needs improving. Can’t remember the others. They’re all in Chinese anyway, most of the time I make it up. At the bottom I must write a few words to let the parents know what we’ve been up to. Today I write that we worked hard with our tracing books, enjoyed playtime and learned a new song. (I’ll teach them after lunch)

2:15

Wake the kids up. They all know they cannot leave their sleeping bags until the lights go on. As soon as I do, it’s like lifting up a rock at the back of the garden and watching all the bugs run around like crazy. They climb out through the little circles and start laughing with excitement that they are now awake.

3:15 – Song and dance complete. It’s snack time. It’s always a boring old soup but today one of my kids has brought in some fancy popcorn. We sit round and share it. K2A have been particularly good today, as the bribe of popcorn all day was more than enough motivation to speak English, eat lunch quickly, fall asleep properly and wake up at the right time.  We pack our school bags, communication books, lunch bags and jackets and make our way down to the front gate. I drop them off and head to the office for my 35 minute break before P-class.

6:15 – P-class are always a handful. There are 8 kids who make enough noise to be 20, they know enough English to happily get by if they ever went to the Western world and, unfortunately they know it. They can be extremely cocky (one of them actually asked me if I had farted because “sumting is vewy smelly” … I hadn’t, for the record) but most of the time extremely funny.

Today is a serious matter however, because we have our final semester test. Luckily, these kids still have very very strict parents (naturally) and a test means a test score and a test score means a parents signature. Only 90% and above will suffice with these kids, so they knuckle down and follow instructions perfectly.

7:15

Leaving the building I punch my card and brace myself for an even crazier commute home. For some reason the evening drive is always so much worse. However, like I said, I am slowly acclimatizing. Home sweet home.

8:15

I try to take full advantage of the gym downstairs. However ‘full’ is pushing it and although I always aim for 4 times a week, it’s normally 2 or 3. It’s a small gym, but it does the job. And its free! To get to the gym you need to walk through the Lounge Bar.

9:15

I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my bedtime routine, like showering, choosing what to watch on TV and what tea to drink (honey or peach?). So for you guys, the day ends there.

Of course it’d be a shame to say all of my days were like this, but I can thoroughly assure you this: Monday through Friday this is me.  Most of my problems consist of what to wear on a Friday, where to find a pedicure before my Thailand vacation,  how to communicate to the taxi driver we want to go to one of only 2 clubs in town (this always involves some kind of mimed dance and drink) or new game ideas to bring the classroom. It’ a tough old life.

10. For example, did you know that burping and farting are completely acceptable over here? No polite excuse required. Just simply let loose and go about your business like it never happened. Even if you’re 50 years old, dressed in a suit and burp with a volume that could shake the earth or are 5 years old, in the presence of your foreign teacher and have a mouthful of food, go for it. Leave your ‘pardon me’s’, ‘excuse mes’ and apologise in Europe my friends,  out here…no shame or blame. Still not sure how I feel about this concept. I feel very offended every time a  5-year-old burps in my face or my assistant frees t her wind in with no acknowledgment. In my head the Chinese would be the most apologetic for this spotlight behaviour. They hate drawing attention to themselves. But, like in many  other ways, Taiwan has surprised/shocked me.

9. When I say umbrella, you probably think rain, wind perhaps the odd storm. A normal and expected association that people in the UK and western world make. Think again.  Here in Asia, not quite how it works. If it rains, grab your head to toe raincoat, complete with sexy zip and poppers, hood, over the shoe covers and visor for your helmet. If its 38 degrees and sunny, grab your umbrella. God forbid the wonderful sunrays should touch your face and discolor that artificially whitened skin of yours. If you don’t have an umbrella, its ok. You can use a book, your bag or if you’re bag/bookless there’s always your good old hand and sleeve, just whatever you do, do not make contact with vitamin D. Not in Taiwan anyway.

8. In the West we’re fed images of Chinese people obeying strict and difficult rules that their government impose on them. You probably picture little shack villages where people don’t have human rights, can’t vote and most tragically, can’t even use facebook. From this, most of us (definitely me anyway)  have made huge assumptions about sex and sexuality and that it’s an unspoken and repressed subject. WRONG. Here it is the total opposite. Sexy girls dressed in wonderfully tacky costumes (think Britney Spears video) stand in shop windows, children in school are far more aware of sex and sexuality than 10 year olds back home and on the whole I feel like it’s just a far more open and acceptable topic than it is in England. I was shocked to see X-rated video shops freely advertised, girls in bikini’s in clubs and a huge gay population both in Taipei and in Hsinchu. Sex Appeal and is alive and kicking and in big business here in Taiwan.

7. Another image we all have of Asia is the buddhist guy, sitting pensively on a rock somewhere with his legs crossed and humming to himself. Now, although buddhism is still the main religion of China and is practiced devoutly across the Strait, here in Taiwan, I am shocked at the amount of churches and neon red crosses sticking out of buildings there are. Christianity is just as common (if not more so in Hsinchu) than Buddhism, there are more Christians in Taiwan and China than there are in Italy and although there are Buddhist temples scattered about the city, Taiwan and China combined are on track to becoming the largest centre of Christians in the world.  Crazy huh?

6. When I say pasta, I could bet you probably everything I own (minus my Beyonce collection, Starbucks thermos flask and scooter) that you think of Italy.  Wrong again. The Chinese have been eating noodles for over 4000 years and are the official inventors of pasta. They didn’t call it pasta obviously, Lord knows what they called it, pasta is an italian word, but pasta itself, is a Chinese dish. Marco Polo (traveller and king of Venice) loved it so much he brought it back to his wonderful country and here in lies the history of the noodle.

5. And the same can be said for smoothies. And ice cream. And Ketchup. And fireworks. And the kite. And the parachute. In fact, there are so many things that everybody in the West uses that China first thought of. I mean, where we be without our Ben and Jerrys? Or our innocent smoothies? Or our 5^th November ritual? Let’s not get into it, too upsetting. Better to just be grateful for the clever clogs in the 14^th century who first came up with these crazy-ass ideas.

4. So its 15 years ago, my Mum and I are traipsing around different secondary schools in 90’ oufits trying to decide which would be best/least distressing for spending 5 years in and we both agree that smaller schools would probably be better. I mean isn’t it a given that the less children in a class the better they do? As it turns out I went to a gigantic secondary school in the end and came out ok (I think), but the saying definitely goes, the less kids, the better they do. For surely, this means more one on one time with the teacher and thus better grades? Not in Taiwan. No no. That would be far too predictable. Here, it’s more like our restaurant browsing policy. The more kids the better. For, obviously this means the teacher is well trusted. So, much to my delight, whilst other classes have 11 or 12 students, mine has 22.  My supervisor tries to spin this as “it means you very good and trusted” as she attempts to place one more in K2A. I’ve drawn the line. And you’ll be pleased to know, the small child was rejected and placed in K2B, her parents weren’t the happiest. I mean there are only 13 children in K2B. This can’t be a good thing at all.…. I will never understand this backwards concept in this country.

3. Friday the 13^th. Unlucky right? In the West yes. In the East? No siree. Try the 4^th. Or just number 4 in general. Apparently the word of death sounds or looks just like the number 4. So anything related to 4 naturally must be related to death. That’s why very often a building won’t have a 4^th floor or models of phones or computers will skip the 4^th generation.

2. Chinese kids are crazy! Everybody who comes here to teach expects them to be the most obedient, well-behaved children on Earth. And every single person has this expectation shattered to pieces within the first few hours of their first day. These children will happily say ‘no’ to your face, and when I say happily I mean it. A kid last week said no with a huge smile on his face. That is until I sent him to Baby class and he spent the entire lesson with children 10 years his younger. They won’t sit still, they speak Chinese to your face and are so clearly calling you an ugly bitch or some insult of the sort. It has taken me 4 months to tame both my classes, using a trial and error method I have eliminated strategy after strategy and eventually found ways to gain both their respect and obedience. Nobody has ever anticipated just how much of a handful a 12-year-old Chinese boy can be, but let me tell you, as soon as they learn the word ‘gay’ or ‘shit’, you’re in for a challenge.

1. The biggest shocker of all is how friendly the Taiwanese are. In general the Chinese have a stereotype for keeping themselves to themselves, needing nobody and befriending only their kind. But, I have experienced only the latter. The locals here will go out of their way to help you. To me, this has made such a difference to my time here and having my iPod returned to me after 4 weeks of frantic searching, being let off the last 20 dollars from a cab ride and being given water at 5 in the morning from the taxi man have all shown me just how amazing this country and it’s little people can be.

As 2011 becomes 2012 and my fourth month here turns into my fifth, I have accepted the disgusting burps and farts. I have gotten used to the crazy 8 lane freeway twice a day. I have learned the hard way that my big class means I am a good teacher. My little cloud is slowly disintegrating and I am falling into the culture I so closely watched and examined. I now wear 3 layers when it’s 22 degrees because I understand the weather and the crazy-ass wind. I now drink hot water instead of cold because I understand it’s better for your throat and nose and can prevent colds. I actually shout at children that need to be shouted at (this is not such a good thing back home) because I realise they must learn how to form their letters and numbers correctly before elementary school  (again, never normally such a big deal, kids in England have crap handwriting). There are probably a million more things I don’t know about the Chinese, after all they’ve been around about 5000 years longer than us, but I’ll take the above 10 as good footing as I head into my second semester.

Happy new year to those in this continent and that which I miss so much.  2012 is the year of the Dragon. My year. If that doesn’t sum it up, I don’t know what will.

That aside, I am feeling rather festive. The playground is a spectacular array of fairylights, both entrances are aglow with LED reefs and Christmas trees and round the clock Christmas show rehearsal has indeed commenced. There is a giant white tree in my classroom complete with pink, blue, green and purple decorations and the school sound system blasts Christmas songs (although not your traditional festive album… unless yours consists of Hilary Duff belting Jingle Bell Rock, Abba and their infamous Super Trooper or Aqua and their rather seductive Happy Boys and Girls’) pretty much 8 of the 10 hours it is turned on. Nonetheless, they are our Christmas Show songs and as I’m wandering from the office to the playground to my classroom I definitely am starting to get into the spirit. And with that in mind (and with assembly research still in progress)  I thought it the best time to be reflective and have a little Thanksgiving of my own…

So, in true English fashion,  first things first: things I am not thankful for….

The weather in Taiwan could be likened to something off a Katy Perry album. It’s 33 degrees and humid one day and then literally 24 hours later its 20 with the coldest, iciest wind. This, I am truly not thankful for. I now have a pretty much resident chesty cough, croaky voice as well as a lacking ability to choose clothes correctly . The sun that beams through my 13^th floor ceiling to floor windows in the morning is criminally deceptive and has left me on many occasions freezing my butt, hands and ears off on the scooter ride to and from work. I am slowly learning to ignore its smiley loving face and put my (new snug) coat on every morning regardless of how beautiful the view of the mountains is on the horizon.

Secondly, I am not thankful for Taiwan’s sneaky Christmas loophole. Although it appears to be in the festive spirit, with decorations and music galore, the country runs a completely normal schedule through the entire month and working at a school this obviously means working right through until Chinese New Year (the obviously more worthy celebration) at the end of January. So where as I normally see Christmas décor and make the clear connection with at least 2 weeks off; this year is all trickery and come Christmas day (although the school have kindly given us poor foreigners 2 days off) I shall quickly be back at work as if this special day never existed. Gone will be the wonderful tree and music (having said that if I never hear Super Trooper again I shall lead a happy and fulfilled existence).

Before this turns into a rant rather than a blog entry I shall turn my attention instead to the things I am indeed very thankful for…

Firstly, and probably most importantly I am thankful for the friends I have mde here. Now we all live in the same beautiful building life is like being back at uni but with an actual apartment, a gym, a job and the money to travel around this beautiful continent over the long holidays. Without this little support group I can safely say I would be far less settled here and have them to thank for a ridiculous string of good (drunken) times. It’s a weird feeling being able to lift your life up, move it a few thousand miles to the right, put it back down and a few weeks later feel like you never moved it.

Secondly, I am thankful for (hold the vomit people) my wonderful boyfriend back home who, in all of this is probably the most incredible. I never mention him, I don’t need to. But on my first thanksgiving it is important I include him.  For being on the other side of the world, he still does an amazing job of taking the piss, calling me at the wrong times and being a rock of support.

Lastly, aside from the complete and utter obvious that is my best friends and my sisters (who are one and the same really ) back home, I can only really say I am thankful for the opportunities I have been given from those in England and those here.  I mean this in many ways (including watching a grown man do the chicken dance to Abba in front of 150 children and sitting on a freezing cold stationary coach in torrential rain for 3 hours on the way to Taipei) but mainly the chance to do things I never would like flying here in the first place with 5 days notice, teach my own class and actual feel like I’m doing a half decent job of it and making wonderful cocktails of vodka, wine, cough medicine and sugar (yes this is a true story and I was not the initiator!) in the wee hours of Friday nights.

If anyone is wondering how the old cousin is doing, he’s settled in probably quicker than I did. He has taken to the job like a fat girl takes to grilled cheese and it almost feels like he’s been here all along. My Chinese is still better than his and I plan to keep it this way. Anyone who has met me for long enough will tell you of my weird (subtle) competitive streak and I will not have him overtake me!

Tomorrow is actual Thanksgiving and my Californian friend Hannah is cooking up (in our £10 toaster ovens) a Thanksgiving feast. Wish us luck, this girl can just about make pasta. If I don’t have a blog entry in the next few weeks, perhaps raise the alarm bells. But until then, Happy Thanksgiving everybody. May your day be filled with things you are thankful for (for me this would simply be the lack of ABBA, Aqua and Hilary Duff) and take care in the cold November weather. I wish I could say I lived in a tropical country and was not experiencing any of this, but unfortunately Taiwan could win awards for its trickery and tonight I shall snuggle in bed with my fleece blanket and dream of roast Turkey.

There I am, at the High Speed Rail Shuttle Bus Stop waiting for the free bus to take to me the bullet train to pick up my actual flesh and blood from the airport. (Although if it were my actual flesh and blood I’d be in serious pain and unable to wait for a bus I imagine… anyway) It’s been nearly 3 months since I’ve seen any of them, and this is not just any special visit. My beloved cousin is coming to live.  I managed to wangle a job for him at the same school, and just like me, they needed him quicker than you can say ‘ni hao’.  The hype over the week has reached its height and I end up telling the Chinese guy at the bus stop (in Chinese) that I’m on my way to pick up my cousin who is going to be an Ingwing Lowshur (English teacher).  I don’t think anything of it. Except – wow, when he nods enthusiastically, I think he must think I’m nuts. I get on the bus. Sit in the traffic. Swear under my breath because I’m late. Run through the station. Buy a ticket (in Chinese). Jump on the train, swear under my breath because it gets held up in a tunnel. Run through the station, jump in a taxi and scream “Wo yow Airport!”

I’m 20 minutes late, and all my marathon efforts and making a ‘Welcome to your new life’ sign on cardboard and squeezing into my bag were in vain. He ends up waiting for me. We exchange a mutual “this is f*cking crazy sh*t” hug, grab a coffee and take 10 minutes outside to absorb the fact that he’s here.  A few words in we’re rudely interrupted by loud bangs. We look around; there are fireworks in the sky. Gorgeous red,  yellow, blue, purple fireworks on a backdrop of the mountains, sunset and my actual cousin in Taiwan. I took the opportunity to cease the moment, a rare landmark moment in life when everything comes together in sync and screamed “Welcome to Taiwan” at the top of my lungs.

We finish our Starbucks, he finishes his cigarette (which he was and still is astonished at its fractional price in comparison to back home) and make our way back to my NEW apartment. That’s right people. After 8 weeks in Taiwan, a developing phobia of mosquitoes, 2 trips to hospital and bites the size of my head, I took the advice of my dear old Dad, threw out my mattress and moved the hell away from my old room. So far away in fact that it took me 20 minutes north into a new city and into a brand new building with rooms complete with plasma TV’s, hot plates, balconies, court yard gym and best of all, every other foreign teacher at Stanford. As soon as I was shown the room I was in love. It’s like living in one of those fake rooms at Ikea that no one ever really has but always dreams of having, with an amazing view of the mountains and the city skyline. So there we were outside the airport, and I tell the guy (in Chinese) that we want to go to the train station. Joe looks stunned. The last time I saw him was in a bar in London, after a few beers we hugged it out and said ‘see you next year.’ A few weeks later, there we are, on the other side of the world and I speak a load of jibberish to a guy who says “ok” and opens the car door.

It’s not until he says “Soph, did you just speak Chinese?” that I realise how much I’ve learned, how comfortable I am here and how much this really has become my life. In the taxi ride and pretty much over the last few days he’s thrown questions at me that I can answer properly and comfortably. What a funny feeling. I am no longer the newbie. In fact, now I almost feel like old news. My sisters, my parents and my cousins now ask how he’s doing, how he’s settling and how what he’s up to. To some this would lead to a sense of replacement or thunder theft. But for me, it’s lead to a feeling of comfort. My chapters are changing. I’m in the second phase. No longer do I feel like a stranger here, in fact quite the opposite, it actually feels like home.  Moving into this building was the cherry on the top of a wonderful, 6ft tall cake made of Nutella and strawberries.  The past 10 weeks have been incredible, but my next chapter looks set to top it. I’m now confident at work and don’t feel like a fish (who doesn’t speak to language or eat the food) out of water and have a nice little routine during the week. I still have moments where I think “dude… you’re actually LIVING on the other side of the world”, but for the most part the beautiful mountainous commute, the gazillion scooters, the bright sunshine, the never-ending adorableness of K2A, the obsession with Hello Kitty and Spongebob and abundance of rice has become second nature to me and as the year comes to an end (and Christmas Show rehearsal  goes into overdrive) I am still as excited as ever for where I am and what I’m doing.

As Joe unpacks his things into the 3 shelves I’ve cleared for him,  he stares at the floor to ceiling display of photos on the wardrobe. “Soph, have you seriously only got that one picture of me where I’m dressed as a zombie from like 4 years ago?” It’s ok I think, we’ve got a whole year.

Fast forward. It’s October, I look down. My feet are in the clearest sea water they’ve ever seen. There’s a pina colada in my left hand and Bob Marley is playing from the band at the end of the beach.  I breathe in deeply and take in everything around me.

Kenting was absolutely incredible. Think 5 hour road trip in blacked out people carrier,  white sand, warm sea, live music,  snorkelling with tropical fish, ice cream inside a coconut, surf competitions and most importantly – think, TATTOO! I kid you not.

It started out as a joke on the ride down. 3 Taiwan Beers in someone makes a joke that we are having a ‘bonding’ weekend and that we should all get matching tattoos. Everyone laughs. And then comes… “actually I’d be down for that”, and then “actually me too”… “if you’re in, I’m in”… and before we knew it, the tattoo discussion turned from talk to tale. We walked around the night market the following night with one eye open for a tattoo artist. Ideas of what to get had been thrown from left to right  and even as we searched for someone to draw on us, we hadn’t made an unanimous decision - except that it had to be Chinese symbols. As the night went on, the search continued and the idea began to fade. Then someone had the bright idea of asking someone at a ‘fake tattoo’ stall if they knew someone who could help us. Turns out, the guy himself could, but didn’t have his tools. This is where the tale starts to get a little shady.

He jumped at the idea of doing 6 tattoos in one night and offered to drive the 2 hour journey back home to collect the tools and then come back. We were interested. Then he said he could only do it at our hotel room as he didn’t have an actual shop. Shadiness continues. We agreed and as its started to rain a little, we made the decision to go home, drink at the bar downstairs until the guy arrived. At the bus stop, Kera and Brad started having reservations. “Guys, we can’t have a random guy giving us tattoos at 2  in the morning in our hotel room.” No one else is that bothered, so we play it down. “Oh it’s fine, he’ll be in and out before we know it.” Kera has 8 tattoos from all different parts of the world. She’s like tattoo queen. “It’s like a drilling noise, and he’ll be at least 3 hours” Playing it down continues. And I start freaking out about this drilling noise.  Deep down we all knew the couple were talking sense. We called the guy back and explained we didn’t want to annoy the nice Hotel lady or get kicked out. But refusing to take No for an answer, the guy insisted  he’d find a place somewhere nearby. Shadiness goes up a notch. “Ok no problem, I’ll rent a room nearby, in fact I think I have a friend on that street. We can go to his apartment.” Somehow, in the mist of it all, we agreed and got on the bus home.

2 hours later, the phone rings. He’s outside. It’s now pouring down outside, and in the thick of the night, the tattoo idea just didn’t seem as appealing. I put my bag over my head and frowned. We all know about my lack of love for the rain, (except for when we’re in school and there are Chinese children laughing of course) and this just wasn’t my idea of fun anymore. We all knew our relatives back home would be saying ‘no  no no, that sounds way too dodgy’… but each and every one of us still stepped out into the rain (in shorts and flip flops I may add) in the early hours of the morning (delirious obviously) and followed the stranger from the fake tattoo stand at 2 in the morning.  To make things worse -I kid you not – a blacked out Mercedes car crawled alongside us the whole way, apparently it was carrying his tools but by this point all of us felt very on edge. Still nobody piped up and rejected the grand idea.

Up in the apartment, the air conditioning box was literally hanging out of the wall. There was nothing actually inside it apart from 2 double beds, a chest of drawers with a TV on the top and an empty wardrobe. We never asked why it was so empty, we just stood with straight backs and were joined by a Chinese man and woman with tools.  Kera stared at the tools, examining  and analysing carefully. She gave us the nod of approval after seeing fresh needles inside sealed canisters and the tattoos began. It only seemed right, that after the entire journey – from the inner city playground to Taiwan, from no friends in Hsinchu to bonding on the beautiful southern tip – that the Chinese symbols for “adventure” would be tattooed onto the back of my neck. And in what more of an adventurous situation could I have been? There I was. 2 in the morning on the other side of the world, with people I had only known 7 weeks in an apartment that a horror movie could quite easily be set in.  To say it didn’t hurt would be lying. It did. But not so much that I stopped him. It was like having 1000 tiny weeny pinches, but from someone with long, freshly cut nails and with a vengeance. I pulled all manner of faces in the 20 minutes the guy spent needling my back. Erin held my hand and Kera updated me every 30 seconds on its progres. It was like giving birth (although I’m sure there are several mothers reading this ready to slap me and tell me otherwise) but whilst the pain having it done was horrible, once he had finished, I was so happy with the finished product, that I forgot about the ordeal I had just been through. Together, one by one, we got through it. Once he had finished, I stood up and took a giant deep breath.

When I was 16 I wrote a “things to do before I die” list… ‘Get a Tattoo’ was number 4. I can now cross that off. I also had “learn Chinese” on there, perhaps in a few months’ (or years) time I’ll be able to cross that one off too. “Adventure” seemed so perfectly fitting and a week on, I do not have one single smidgen of regret. Now, in years to come when the 6 of us are back in our home countries, with mortgages and babies and no time to think about the amazing times we once had,  we will always have the tattoo as a reminder of our incredible adventures in Taiwan and how a few little symbols can provide so much fun.

We took the bullet train back. I’ve never heard or seen anything like it. For £25 we got home in one fifth of the time (and at the same price) it took us to drive down there. It was like flying. We zoomed through the gorgeous Taiwanese countryside, mountains, waterfalls and fields and arrived back in Hsinchu precisely 1 hour and 23 minutes after leaving.

Back home, I now have a cough, sore throat, headache and bites the size of my palms on my legs. A trip to the hospital on Thursday informed me that I am having a “severe allergic reaction to insect bites” and that the “tissue beneath the first 3 layers of skin is badly damaged”… lovely. After an antihistamine injection in my arm, I hobbled away with 6 bags of medicine which included 3 days of steroids, 7 days of antibiotics and very strong painkillers. Thank the Lord, the doctor (who wasn’t very sympathetic – I don’t think the Taiwanese are too big on empathy) worked miracles and my legs are starting to resemble actual lower limbs again.

Although the past week has been fairly miserable for me, last weekend was so much fun it’s almost like you’re allotted a certain amount of fun per month and I maxed mine out in Kenting. I’ve spent today, nursing my cold, eating peanut butter on bread (don’t have a toaster you see) and tiding my apartment. As I’m doing so, I’ve been boxing things nicely… as I’m now looking at moving out. Yep. I’ve convinced myself that the bugs that bit my legs are here, living with me and that’s why I’m getting bitten so much. It could be in my head. Or it could be in my bed. Whatever the case may be, I need to get out of here.  The last time I said that I flew to the other side of the world. As nice as my landlady is, I have no qualms about moving out next month and into somewhere where I can just relax. Even if it is in my head, I’m ready for a change. I guess the symbols inked across the back of my neck really do ring true. Adventure is now a part of who I am.

However, should you take the plunge, simply follow the instructions below and you could find yourself living an extremely different, unimaginable life.

Step 1. Secure a job you enjoy. Last Friday evening, I found myself dismissing my older children 30 minutes early so I could dash home and change into my Princess costume. I wish I was kidding, but guys and girls, I am not. Every 2 months parents, grandparents, brother and sisters flock to school after sunset for the one and only ‘Parents Day’ which includes a wonderfully over-rehearsed show, hand-made (by teachers) gifts and a chance to see their children’s work. Why am I dressed as a princess? This semester we combined parents day with Halloween.  So why am I dressed as a princess? Well it was the only choice in the fancy dress cupboard. It is was either that or an afro and I figured Jackson 5 just wasn’t Halloweeny enough. So there I was, 6pm sharp back in school. Red ball gown – check. Red shoes – check. Gold tiara – check. GHD’d hair – check. 22 five year olds dressed as pumpkins – check. 44 parents armed with SLR cameras demanding photographs so frantically it’s as if the playground has been transformed to DisneyLand and us foreign teachers are the main attraction – check. I felt famous. Once on stage we were introduced in pairs (in Chinese of course) we took a bow (or curtsey for me) and hosted our very own Halloween party. K2A nailed their part of the show, complete with musical instruments and a scary ROARR at the end. The fashion show (whereby the kids walk down the runway and strike a very Chinese pose consisting of either the classic peace sign or the new ‘poke your cheek with your index finger smile’) went down a storm, the piñata had adults more aggressive than the kids and the haunted house (or converted classroom) was amazing. By the end of the evening and 22 ‘yes, your child is doing brilliantly in school’ conversations later, I was knackered, but I knew I was exactly where I wanted to be. This job can be the most exhausting on the planet, but my God it will give you 100% contentment every time a shy child has an outgoing moment on stage, or the autistic boy frenziedly introduces you to Mama and Baba and says “I love you” to you in front of them and they look overcome with happiness. Step 1, secure a job that never gets old.

Step 2. Find a decent bar/club and make it your local. So Parents Day is over, I am no longer a princess, Erin no longer a pirate and Brad no longer a sumo wrestler. What’s the plan? Vodka and wine pre-party on Britt’s roof obviously! We have about an hour to transform ourselves from perfect, bubbly, smiley teachers into crazy party goers. Before we know it, we’re in a taxi on our way to meet the rest of the crew and without any dinner the party begins. I now know there are two videos of my drunken dancing to a Korean song floating around this city and am aware that Taiwanese red wine does not mix well with 18 year scotch or gin and tonic (as appealing as it may seem at the time – just trust me, it does not). Once off the roof and in the club, get to know the DJ and request Beyonce. If you stick your bottom lip out far enough he’ll play ‘Who Run the World – Girls’ immediately and follow it by ‘Crazy in Love’ – amazing. By finding a place that plays incredible music and is local you will meet other regulars and build up your own network. I now know I can sing every word of ‘Girls’ into the host’s microphone and have my voice recognised by Brad in the guys toilets. B would be proud eh?

Step 3. Learn the language. After denying a cool New Yorker a place to stay at 5am in the morning (even if he is from Manhattan he’s still a stranger) and getting home with the help of my dear Miss Erin, I had to be up 5 hours later to meet my language exchange in Taipei. The hour long bus journey seemed to last a lifetime and the ultimate hangover had set in by 2pm. Nonetheless, I gave it my everything and have learnt so much from the lovely girl who’s agreed to teach Chinese to the worst student ever. She reserved a table in a Japanese restaurant, needless to say sushi is not what I had in mind after the amount of vodka I had consumed the night before. I stuck to green tea and fried chicken and made it through the session.  I can now talk all about my family, dates and months of the year and my feelings (i.e. I am so happy, I am so angry, I am hungry/tired/busy). Great stuff. Learning the language has helped me feel like a part of the school I work in, the city I live in and the country I have become an Alien Resident of.  The more I learn the more confidence I have to talk to new people and the more friends I have, simple.

Step 4. Stay friends with your employer. After lunch and information overload, Grace took me to a couple of wonderful clothes shops. The capital really is incredible. I have already picked out my winter coat and mittens (apparently it hits 10 degrees here, which everyone from California seems to freak out about!!) . I went to meet my agent for dinner. The lovely Jenny told me she is my big sister in Taiwan and anything I need I should not hesitate to ask her. She took me to a Vietnamese restaurant, ordered some incredible peanut beef noodle dishes and told me how easily she can find people jobs and if I wanted to stay an extra year but change schools I just have to choose a city and it’s a done deal. By staying friends with your agent you keep your options open and have a much higher chance of landing a job that really suits you, i.e. salary, hours, location etc. I now feel the world is my oyster and that with good networking skills you really can get anywhere!

Step 5. Know your local town. After dinner I was meant to make my way across the capital for a Chocolate and Wine party which a new Taiwanese friend had invited me to. But the hangover was in full swing and as I slurped up the remaining Beef Satay noodles from my plate, my eyes were drooping and I was one deep breath away from falling asleep.  I jumped on a bus back home, fell asleep and opened my eyes JUST as we pulled up at my stop, must’ve been an angel in the seat behind me because if he hadn’t have kicked my chair, I wouldn’t have jolted forward, my tall skinny Hazelnut latte wouldn’t have spilt and I would’ve missed my stop. I walked the 5 minute journey home with my eyes closed, got in and fell straight into a deep sleep. The next day was one I had been waiting for since I arrived in Hsinchu. We were all going to the beach which was  a 20 minute scooter ride away to watch the sunset. Apparently schools of fish jump in and out of the water and it is practically deserted. However, my hopes were shattered when I awoke to the sound of crazy typhoon wind and rain. That’s right. It’s 36 degrees all week, Sunday comes and its 26, rain and wind. Great. Nevertheless we make the trip down there, which feels like a real life game of Mario Kart as all 5 scooters weave in and out of the heavy traffic along crowded city roads and eventually onto country coastline.  In spite of the rain and wind, we walked along the coast, grabbed coffees and said goodbye to Heidi, who has left the world of Taiwanese expatriation for Disneyland Florida. (jealous much.) It was amazing to see what lies only 20 minutes away though, the beach really is deserted and although it was cloudy on the day we went, I can see the potential for an absolutely stunning sunset.

Step 6. Explore your surroundings. This week in school will be the same as any (no princesses or pumpkins sadly) although tomorrow I do have my ‘demo’, which means the entire teaching team will pile into my classroom and watch me for half an hour, greaaat. I am so nervous but am too pre-occupied with the upcoming events of this weekend to care! We have another bank holiday, so we have booked seats on the fastest train in the world to travel 2 hours down to the very southern tip of the island. It’s a national park, so entirely protected and is basically a beach resort minus the hotels or any type of inhabitation. The county is called Kenting and we are basically taking a 4 day vacation! We’re going scuba-diving, white water rafting, sunbathing in hammocks and celebrating a new foreign teacher’s birthday. She’s called Hannah, fresh in from California, and it means I (nor Kera nor Brad) am no longer the newbie around here. We’re taking full advantage of the situation and travelling down straight after work on Friday. Google Kenting, seriously, I cannot wait.

Step 7. Use your holidays wisely. After Kenting we have the whole of November to work and sadly we do not break up for Christmas. The Taiwanese count Chinese New Year as their big one so I will have to work all the way through the festive period. However, my nice executive director, as scary as she may be, has kindly given me Boxing Day and 27^th off. I will therefore fly to Singapore on the Friday to meet the family I never even knew existed until a couple of years ago. I have an uncle, an aunt and 3 cousins and they have agreed to house and feed me over Christmas. Singapore is only a few hours flight from here, and in any other circumstance, flying to Singapore from the UK for Christmas would just seem loony, but while I am, I will use every weekend and bank holiday the best I can and fly all around South East Asia.

Step 8. Get your own transport. That’s right people! I have just this evening become the proud owner of a 50cc motorbike (‘scooter’ out here) and no longer must rely on lovely Erin to drive me everywhere to buy my weekly supply of coco pops and mango smoothies or to yoga classes. I am petrified and have not actually put the key in the ignition as of yet, but the point is – I have the key. Complete with a little policeman keyring and everything. I now have the ultimate freedom and feel a crazy road trip to somewhere amazingly beautiful coming on.  Now all I need is my own pretty little helmet. I have one that departing Heidi gave me, but it’s black and grey and I want a pretty red flowery one. Helmet shopping in Kenting maybe!

Step  9. Keep in touch. Every Sunday I have long skype convo’s with my sisters back home and cannot stress the importance of maintaining friendships and relationships back home whilst abroad. I make a conscious effort to email those I miss the most frequently and am readily available on skype most evenings. By doing this and keeping up to date with everyone I love I feel less alienated, less far away and far more inclined to throw my all into everything I’m doing over here. It gives everything I’m doing a bit more context, it makes it seem less surreal and more like home. Without keeping in touch, I would feel like this was a dream and never really felt like any of it really meant anything.

Step 10. Write a blog! In 10/20/30 years from now when I am back home and (hopefully) settled into a job/marriage/babies/mortgage etc. I will be able to read everything I have done back and relive everything that happened. And whilst it does take a bit of time, what is the whole year worth without proper documentation? Keeping a blog helps me appreciate why I’m here, keeps friends and family in the know and most importantly gives me the chance to create long lasting memories. We all know this won’t last forever, when I’m old and wrinkly this may be all I have!

So if you’ve ever wanted to become a proper expat, book your ticket, get out of the country you’ve always lived and loved and follow my simple instructions. You can bet your entire life you won’t regret it.

After a long, exhausting week at school a night in heels by the speakers wasn’t my idea of the perfect Friday night, more like a massage and a movie. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in Taiwan it’s that they take hard work very seriously and play even more so. The club has incredible décor, a DJ flown in straight from Sophie’s iPod and perhaps most interestingly – a boxing ring.

Security guards and referees appear out of nowhere and I manage to squeeze through the crowd to the front of the ring. There’s another announcement in Chinese and the 2 regular club goers step inside wearing gloves, a helmet and a mouth guard. The referee blows the whistle, the music goes up, people drink and cheer. It’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. After 3 rounds it’s obvious the guy on his back is the loser, the referee hands the winner a line of tequila shots and a bottle of some sort, the bass returns and the cigarette smoke disappears.

This process continues throughout the night and with an amazing DJ blasting out tunes I never ever thought they’d have heard of on the other side of the world (would you risk it for a chocolate biscuit?) I dance till the sun comes up, screaming at the losing opponents and egging on my male friends to get in there and get us some free drinks.  Taiwan knows how to party.

The next morning, awoken by the Trash Truck that comes past twice a day (1:30pm and 6:30pm) to collect rubbish, my feet hurt, my throat hurt and my head was banging. But I didn’t care. Today was KTV day. What’s KTV I hear you say… Well my friends, only the most amazing place in the entire world. Picture this. You pull up outside a very posh hotel building. Go through the glitzy gold doors to be greeted by the receptionist who asks your reservation name. She tells you you’re in room 410 on the 4^th floor. You take the glitzy gold lift up there and open the door. Its not a hotel room. It’s a lounge area, complete with ridiculously comfortable sofas for 15 people, tables, 50 inch plasma, and most importantly  – 2 microphones. This, ladies and gentlemen, is Karaoke Television. The free buffet is just outside and caters for all 3 of your daily meals, including croissants, ice cream, fries, spaghetti carbonara, spring rolls, coffee and beer. On the black and silver tables there are 2 folders, one lists 1000 songs in Chinese and the other in English. You use the small computer to the left to input the songs you want to belt out to and they appear on the screen one by one. It was 3pm. I scoured the file for Beyoncé, but was later told her songs were too hard for Chinese people to sing. Nice. So I chose Lady Marmalade, took off my shoes, stood on the sofa and was transported back to the night before.  We had the room for 6 hours and the 11 of us ate, drank and sang our hearts out.  I actually sang so much I lost my voice for a little while (nothing a bit of free ice cream couldn’t handle).

It was strange being sober and singing like a complete idiot in front of people. Back home, most people would never dream of doing such a thing unless heavily under the influence. But here in Taiwan, there are children and adults alike, all piling in for some good old karaoke fun. For the grand price of £8 you can eat, drink and sing as much as you can. And after representing my home country with as many songs as possible (think ‘walking 500 miles’,  ‘flying without wings’ and ‘sorry seems to be the hardest word’) we were sadly booted out. Everyone made their way to Red Bar where the birthday boy with us managed to (somehow) wangle a ‘buy one get one free’ deal. I then spent the night drinking 2 Coronas for a pound, singing far too loudly to all the Beyonce tracks they put on (which heavily increased after my first stunning performance let me tell you) preaching about how amazing London is (I do this a lot when under the influence) and attempting to  teach people dance routines from times of the past I try to deny and repress when sober.

If last weekend was a weekend of culture and history, this weekend takes the crown for ridiculous amounts of crazy carousing and making new friends. I wonder what next weekend will be…

The answer to this depends on the type of person you are I suppose, but even this concept itself will come under scrutiny and at times I have learned things about myself that I never thought I would.

First off, I actually have friends. There is a seriously nice group of foreign teachers which I have  easily slotted into (thank God) and feel like I’ve been here for so much longer than a month. Luckily there are 2 other newbies so there is even a mini-group within the main group. We have rooftop bbq’s, go to yoga (my muscles have been destroyed from the advanced class we accidentally spent too long in), complain about disobedient Chinese children over dinner, (they are far more common than you think) visit each other in hospital (2/7 so far), collect each other from the bus station at 2am (thank you Ms. Erin) and make plans to visit the amazing beaches at the weekends.

Secondly, after my second visit to the capital I am wandering around feeling like I’m at home. Taipei is an incredible city and after being shown around by my sisters good old friend Megan I can safely say I am in love with the capital. Rich and poor live side by side, night markets next door to designer (hello Chanel and Longchamp).  Serene places of worship and history are just seconds away from buildings developing the worlds next technologies. In one day I visited a memorial hall, a landmark of history and achievement (Chang Kai Shek is the founder of Taiwan and my Dad’s favourite topic of conversation on Skype) as well as Taipei 101, a building designed to look like bamboo and houses every the likes of Marc Jacobs and Long Champ.

Whilst in Taipei I met up for a coffee with a girl called Grace. She is 27, speaks good English and I met her on the internet. Why are you meeting a stranger from online in Taipei I hear you ask! Don’t panic. The website is a forum for foreigners living in Taiwan and she is my language exchange. She is looking (just as I am) to learn another language in exchange for teaching somebody her own. So we spent 3 wonderful hours getting to know each other (she came far more prepared than I did with worksheets and homework!) and speaking English and Chinese.  I learned an amazing amount in a short space of time and I am now hoping to go back to the Capital every 2 weeks (as I love it so much) to meet with Grace and make an actual attempt to become bilingual.

Thirdly, my apartment is a mess. When I first arrived I didn’t have enough stuff for it to be a mess. But as I look around, there are 3 bottles of half drunk Jasmine Tea on the side, an opened box of Oreos which should have been put back on its shelf but is scruffily laying sideways on my desk. Nail varnish remover and nail varnish on the floor where I sat in a hurry yesterday morning and paperwork and planning everywhere as I continue to put 110% into my lesson planning and often stay up into the early hours of the morning (although in my defence this is also to catch you folk on Skype 7 hours behind me). My apartment now feels like home and I look forward to coming back (sometimes during lunch) just to chill in my own place. There are photos everywhere, reminder post-its on the wall and a giant tube map I received in one of my packages!

Forth – I now use the lingo around here. As well as my ever-improving basic Chinese, I don’t call the local convenience store 7/11 anymore. I call it 7’s (yep I’m THAT cool), I say garbage can and cell phone, vacation and gas (for petrol). You may be scrunching up that little face of yours in disgust, but if I use the British terms for these items, no one understands what I mean and I waste my time correcting myself and explaining we use these words in the UK.  Its quicker and easier to use these words, which are scarily becoming so comfortable.

Fifth – K2A are really becoming my own. We have a test every Friday, all the foreign teachers will leave their classrooms and go to another. They will test the class individually on that weeks unit and score each child out of 20 for their vocab, phonics and pronunciation skills. I am very proud to announce that 8 of my children scored perfectly (meaning they remembered everything and pronounced them perfectly), 7 scored 19 and 5 scored 18 (there is 1 boy who scored 0 because he just does not speak, ever.) But I was very very very happy with the results and I feel like I actually have a purpose while I’m here.

That day I took them for a treat to play for 20 minutes, we made animal masks and the idea was that the would stay in character through the whole playtime (this was my way to justify 20 mins play during lesson time). However 5 minutes in, there was a bolt of lightning, thunder and then the heaviest rain shower I’ve ever seen. It came out of nowhere and all the children were caught – in the middle of the playground – bang smack in the middle of a typhoon. I panicked and worried they would all freak out and cry hysterically. But my panic was in vain. Within 10 seconds all the children were laughing uncontrollably and running around in circles. I couldn’t help but laugh with them. It was a funny old sight  to see 20 laughing chinese children in animal masks in the middle of a storm.

I had another one of my ‘I can’t believe this is my life’ moments and started singing ‘if you’re happy and you know it clap your hands’ at the top of my lungs. The kids just about heard me over the deafening sound of the rain and joined in. There we were, drenched, singing and stamping our feet and patting our heads. I realised I didn’t mind the rain. Back home I  was convinved it was the Devil in disguise, out to make people miserable and ruin their plans. I admit I was a weather snob ok! But here it gave me and my class some bonding time we never would have had and as put my arms out (in pain from yoga class) and spun around with my eyes shut I actually had a slight change in personality. I appreciated the coolness, the breeze, the break from the 36 degree humidity and was grateful for the huge rain drops now hitting my cheeks and chin. No longer do I hate the rain.

My first month has been a manic journey on which I haven’t always been able to predict my own reactions, i.e. wanting to backhand a 12 year old in the head but managing to refrain, navigating my way home on a Saturday night in Taipei by making friends with an strangely tall Chinese guy who taught me Chinese at 2 and translated the Bus Station announcements, and having unlimited patience with the naughtiest boy in the class (E is doing well and although he has his bad days – e.g. drawing all over another girls clothes and skin with felt tip – is still learning English well and learning when he is angry enough to go into the ‘Feelings Corner’). I have surprised myself with how quickly I have adapted to a new way of life and new routine. It doesn’t take long to remove yourself from everything you have known your whole life and start again. And as I sit here typing this (in bed because my muscles have given up on me) I realise it is a bold reminder that life is short. That if you want to do something you just should and that advanced yoga class is not your friend.