Typhoon season hasn't come this year to Taiwan. Like many climate changes worldwide, water seems a critical variation, maybe even more than temperature. Taiwan is facing a major drought and beginning to take measures to limit irrigation and home use until rains return and refill the aquifers and rivers. Luckily the country's electric power is not tied to water. Energy sources are mostly wind, on the increase, and nuclear, aging and going offline.
Taiwan feels like a modern well-developed country in most ways. High rise apartments and high tech devices. Traffic jams of BMWs, Mercedes, Lexus and Teslas waiting at well timed signals. Convenience stores fully stocked with packaged food, ATMs, and photocopy machines. Coffee shops outnumbering tea rooms.
On the flip side, 20-30 year old scooters clog the spaces beside the luxury cars. Parents ride their kids home in modestly protective Hello Kitty helmets. Sidewalks buckle and cement cracks with the pressures of nature - tree roots, heavy rains and earthquakes. Rural towns are still populated with mom and pop shops serving homecooked meals. Rough handed farmers with bamboo hats pick fruit, and the dust on the wind darkens the shiny white tile floor in our apartment.
It's not that these contrasts don't exist back home, it's just that living on the "modern" side of the equation on floor 5 of a building that houses half of my US hometown, heightens my awareness. That's why, when I upgraded from a bicycle to a scooter last week I felt like I was "moving on up".
I was happy to have found a reasonably priced electric scooter to use for the year. Around town I still prefer to use my bike, but the scooter comes in handy for my ride to the country school where I teach two days a week. Riding it home from the purchase point was exhilarating and as I pulled into the garage the battery indicator read 3/4 charge remaining. That should last me a week, I thought.
I checked the weather the night before my first ride to make sure I would be riding in the rain. Only a slight chance of rain looked safe enough. In spite of drought conditions this year, the wind continues to be strong in Hsinchu, the crackling sound of browning dry bamboo stands, namesake of this county, seemed to be a agonizing cry for water. My colleagues at school cautioned me that the wind could also be a factor slowing my ride or worse, a side gust could blow me off the road. I made plans to leave early so I could slow down and be more careful on my first trip out.
This is a familiar route for me because I taught at the same school 7 years ago and I used to ride a scooter to Zhaomen Jr. High regularly. I felt confident as I set off in the morning leaving the tension of city traffic to enjoy an open air country ride. I headed up the hill and out of town. I also noticed that the hill caused my new cycle to pull a little harder as other noisy scooters whizzed by me. Over the hill and out of the city the scooter picked up steam, but not quite as much as expected. Steadily and silently it revved down.
The battery indicator now down to half, I began to worry, would I make it. I looked at the hill ahead I still had a climb, perhaps 7-8 km, through the bustling market town, up into the hillside persimmon orchards and across the ripening rice fields to school. I was losing power, but I still had extra time. As I reached town, the ride slowed to a walking pace. I hopped off and pushed the bike into the narrow street where traffic was tight, but slower, and I began to look for a place to charge. I also hoped to see a familiar face who could take me the rest of the way.
As I reached the far end of town, I still hadn't find a place to stop or hailed a ride so I pushed on. Up the hill past the vocational high school, past an open market (not yet open), then waving fields of grain and it seemed like there wouldn't be any more places to stop. I checked my watch and realized that the SIM card in my cell phone had also recently ended a 1 month contract. I couldn't even call ahead to let the school know I'd be late. A man on a scooter in front of me wore a security vest so I waved and asked, "Do you know where I can charge my scooter? I'm out of power." He looked across the street and hollered to a vendor just ending the breakfast rush. He waved us over.
I crossed the road not stopping to pick up the travel mug I dropped on the yellow line in my rush. The man in his security vest was right behind me. He handed me the mug as I explained to the shop keeper that I was a teacher at the school just up the road. He welcomed me in and ran to get an extension cord to charge my scooter. I offered him money but he refused. A customer and her son stopped in and they discussed how we might reach my school by phone. Time was running short. "Do you have a phone number for your colleagues?" Uh, no. I only text them on a messenger app and my phone has no wifi here. As they puzzled the problem further I decided to hoof it on down the road and waved thanks and goodbye.
It was a beautiful morning and the breeze was not too strong. I crossed a bridge over a river that was very low and ran past a convenience store at a crossroads traffic light. I turned the corner toward school and wondered how late I might be. I had about 10 minutes left to run 2 km. Maybe I could make it. Or maybe, Taiwanese country drivers would know the hitchhiking signal. I looked back for traffic and stuck out my thumb. The second car by was a natural gas delivery truck. He pulled over, rolled down his window and asked if I needed help, then invited me in. I gave him directions to my destination and he graciously drove me right to the school gate. I walked in sweating and nervous. The teaching affairs office erupted in cheers! You're here! You have class in 5 minutes. I'd made it, on neighbor power. It was going to be a good day after all.
No comments:
Post a Comment