I am wondering if I was starting to go a little crazy living for a month in an 8 bed dormitory above a busy night market with people from so many different countries coming and going every day. A little crazy. And at least half of everything was taking place in Chinese so that I often had only the vaguest idea of what was being said.
How did I end up in such a position anyway? It just kind of crept up on me. My basic needs were met and I certainly was learning every day. It wasn't until I actually got into this room (with its private washroom, desk and internet cable) that it dawned on me that my life had spun dangerously close to an edge of some sort.
Last night I think I was grumpy towards Jin Yao, even though she has done nothing but help me. I went to bed late and spent the night contending with mosquitoes and insecurities, my mind spinning out of control. Supposedly we think about 17000 thoughts per day, on average, and I certainly used up my quota that night. Don't think I slept at all.
In the morning, deciding I had better take control of things I packed up, checked out and took a taxi to the university. Had a photo and address of the place so I did arrive on the sidewalk beside Taichung University with my bags, but unfortunately did not recall correctly the address of the Guest House. So shortly there I was sitting on a park bench with my luggage looking at a solid row of large unrecognisable Chinese apartment buildings - not a great feeling. Luckily I had a phone number which connected me, after a significant strain on my mandarin telephone conversation abilities, to the right department. The lovely Juju came and rescued me. I was close, but had turned left on the wrong street.
The story has a spectacularly happy ending because now here I am in a delightful single room (see photos in the previous post) just around the corner from the university where I will study for three months. It feels like pulling into a safe harbour after a month on stormy seas.
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