Making the Decision to Move to Taipei, Taiwan in 1988
I was living in Plano, Texas and working in Richardson
at LBJ and Grenville when my then husband invited me to lunch at Houston’s, a
place who served at that time “to die for salads” and advised me that he’d been
offered a sales position in Taipei, Taiwan.
Needless to say I was flummoxed. While we’d discussed
the possibility of accepting an international position, I’d always dreamed it
would be someplace like Rome or Paris or
Rio or Australia or someplace where the USA had diplomatic relations.
And to top it off, I’d recently accepted a promotion at work that had resulted
in another person being demoted to give me his job. Note, this was in 1988 and
women in management were still less than customary in conservative industries
such as insurance.
However, I knew that to refuse to go would not only
cripple my husband’s career, it would deprive me of an adventure. Never mind
that Taiwan wasn’t in the top 50 places I wanted to visit. Actually, it wasn’t
even on the list. But I knew that if I
said no, I would regret that decision the rest of my life. The only real regrets are those of
opportunities not taken!
So, I agreed to go. I gave my notice at work, decided
what to send to storage, insisted that my shoes be send by air, and embarked on
an adventure that ultimately lasted 5 years – with my living 2 years in Taipei
and 3 in Hong Kong.
The experiences of those 5 years taught me to
appreciate the differences in cultures, that flexibility was the key to survival,
that all peoples do not think the same way or appreciate life the same way,
that change is good and contributes to growth, that the American way is not the
only way and not always the best way, that the US government can sometimes act
like a bully, that American citizens cannot always rely on the US government to
assist them in times of trouble, that there is beauty in the world that I’d
never imagined, that the Chinese artisans of past centuries created treasures
by hand that modern technology could never hope to recreate, that ground pigeon
can be tasty, what it means to be a minority, that sometimes one must eat
things outside our comfort level so as not to offend a host, that I could feel
compassion for a snake, even poor Americans live much better than the average
citizens of some other countries, and that I was not just a survivor but one
who can thrive in situations outside my comfort zone.
While ultimately my marriage did not survive our time
as expatriates, I will always be grateful to my former husband for affording me
the opportunities to see a part of the world I would not have otherwise seen
and to make friends with folks I wouldn’t have otherwise met.
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