A Taste of the Good Life

Being back at my folks in Taichung is a bit like checking yourself in voluntarily at a rehab clinic. I have no cell phone, I get to watch lots of tv, I get 3 squares a day, I get told what to do at what time, I have no access to booze, I get supervised excursions to the outside world, no one really knows where I am or how to contact me, but I can leave any time I want.

I love my mum and dad. This is true. And I knew I would be pretty emotional seeing them after an absence of three years. But after a week it's like I'd never left. I had originally thought I'd lap in the luxury of being at home and take a good month off from my "independent" life. The truth is, I'm missing the routine of getting ready for work, being both productive and slyly not during the day, looking forward to that after work drink and the feeling of being justly lazy on the weekend.

Perhaps it's the jetlag, but my days are melting into one and quite frankly I was shocked to discover it was Thursday and not Tuesday the other day (I had lost two full days, was I in a time-lapse coma?). Jetlag really is an evil mistress of Travel. I curse her name. Curse. Curse.

So yes, there's a whole new world out there for me and I've yet the capability to do it justice. But I will. Just yesterday morning mum and I went out to buy some breakfast, and she drove down a narrow road that was being encroached upon by an over-abundance of silent neon signs. This was at 6.30 am, the road was clear of traffic, the morning light shedding a misty warmth telling of the humidity in the air. The scene, I wish I had my camera with me, was so Asian.

We came home ladened with soy milk, egg rolls, steamed buns and chive pancakes.

Rehab or not, this is one fantastic start to any morning.