Talim

At this very moment, nothing ranks higher on the blog-able meter than Talim. Find out what you want about it on the news; I'm only offering my piece of the storm.

Typhoons were summerly experiences when I was a kid here. They were really more causes for joy than sadness. School days would be canceled, sometimes ground floors would be flooded. All in all a good time.

Some things never change.

I'll skip emo comments about how sad I feel for the people who are suffering worse than I have, and since I'm aiming for a career in search and rescue, you can save yours, too. These past few days have been harrowing for hundreds of thousands on two continents, so channel some positive energy into this world by lightening up, ok?

It turns out that western Taiwan never got hit hard, at least not while we were passing through on our way back from the southwest. Although nothing has hit Taiwan as hard as Talim for a while. Mei Nong, where we stopped to eat some ban tiao and look at the famous paper umbrellas, flooded to the knees a day after we left.


Things got much more interesting when we left my 2nd uncle's home in Sha Lu. The powerful gusts were driving the rain sideways, painting lovely mobile waves on the pavement with the help of pale street lamps. After copious amount of traditional Taiwanese food (deep fried and kicks ass), nearly a liter bottle of Taiwan Beer (think Corona but cheaper), and the effects of jet lag setting in, I decided to break the law, too. My dad and I switched seats after passing the first toll station, all of whom were closed across the entire island. I don't remember driving this blind in a torrential storm since high school, certainly never at night, without license in a country I've never driven in, speeding at 120 km(75 mi)/hr in a 100 zone, and pinching my knee to stay awake.

Dude, that was so extreme.

Fog lights would've helped, because high beam sure as hell didn't. I will hitherto forever respect those highway reflectors more than mere road bumps, because when your wind shield is covered with an opaque curtain of rain and gusts rock your car like a ship out on sea, they are the only proof that Big Brother ever cared enough to show you the way.

A drive on nearly deserted streets today brought the scale of destruction more to home. Fallen traffic signals, signs, and aluminum fences were almost amusing. The paper boy bravely rides along on his trusty scooter, still bearing two satches full of paper and ink. It was after noon.
Talim has weakened and moved on to the mainland, but its presence can still be felt. That's just perfect, because I've never jogged in the wake of a typhoon before.