Antique and secondhand shopping in Taiwan isn't always easy

I'm actually excited to tell you about this lamp

I've had a lot going on these past few months, from my cat's heart attack to a voracious return of my lifelong insomnia (it's ebbed and flowed since childhood). One way I find relief from this is physical activity, preferably paired with some sort of mental problem-solving. When we lived in Jingmei I'd take long bike rides along the riverside. I started blogging as an outlet. More recently, I've taken an interest in interior design, making my home look as good as it possibly can, while spending as little as possible. This usually means scouring everywhere I can go or Lalamove will pick up for secondhand finds. 

The problem: while secondhand shopping in Taiwan can occasionally yield some real treasures that it'd be difficult to find elsewhere, and is especially good for Shōwa-era vintage Japanese items, it is usually riddled with issues. 

First, however, I'd like to share a success story. I came across this old Japanese pendant light at April's Goodies a few weeks ago. NT$700 was an acceptable price, so I nabbed it. I removed the old light as it didn't look safe. I could have re-wired it as a ceiling pendant with a fairly straightforward lighting kit, calling an electrician for installation only. Instead, I saw its potential as a table lamp and ordered a wooden light bulb stand online (a 燈座, not 燈台, as I learned after an educated guess and a fruitless search). 

                    

I don't have much restoration experience, so while I theoretically know how to make old things beautiful again, I lack the practical application skills. This I could handle, though. I removed the acrylic panels, washed them and coated the yellowed ones in a baking soda and peroxide mixture to dry overnight. I cleaned the wooden base and applied butcher block oil to give it some new life. The acrylic was slighly warped with age, so they no longer snapped in place -- I added a small amount of plastic adhesive to each panel in turn, weighing it down from the inside to dry in place before replacing the next one. Plop the whole thing over the lightbulb stand and boom -- a gorgeous "new" lamp! It will be extremely easy to turn it back into a pendant light if I ever so desire. 


                      


A happy ending like this, however, feels pretty rare. Frankly, I find secondhand shopping in Taiwan a little difficult. I don't mean the language barrier; I regularly communicate with sellers on Facebook Marketplace. Rather, the overall secondhand scene is often not ideal. 

I'm a little wary of the markets under the bridges, which are probably the best places to hunt. I've heard on multiple occasions that some (though likely not all) of the best finds are actually stolen. In fact, our building had a shoe thief for some time, which prompted a security upgrade. I asked a neighbor once why anyone would continually scout apartment buildings for used shoes to steal and she said that's the origin of most of the shoes at, say, the secondhand market under Fuhe Bridge. 

The secondhand furniture and kitchenware markets on Xiamen Street and Chongqing South Road are more trustworthy, but also a bit more specific (and I've yet to find a piece of furniture I actually want on Xiamen Street, despite checking it out multiple times). 

Thrift stores seem to come in two varieties: clean and organized but small, like Kuang-ren Green Fashion (光仁綠時尚) or the small shops in some MRT stations, or big but -- how can I put this -- often a bit grimy, as with many branches of Flea Market (跳蚤本舖). There are some bigger secondhand furniture markets outside the major cities, but there's nothing quite like the thrift stores where I furnished most of my college and early-twentysomething apartments. I do understand that Taiwan isn't the US and I can't expect something like thrift store culture to be exactly the same, but an option that's even vaguely parallel would be welcome. Kuang-ren is the best I've found so far. 

The antique stores are a little better in terms of quality, and I usually have good luck at Shōwa Old Home Store, Qinjing Warehouse and April's Goodies, but every vintage fiend I know is still reeling from the end of in-store browsing at Treasure Hunters. Their Line group is a bit overwhelming and I'm not always free when the bidding starts. What's more, if you're not already in the group, it's now very difficult to join. I have to wonder -- do they really want our business or not? 

It's a real shame, as one of my favorite secondhand lacquerware items came from Treasure Hunters, as did the matcha bowl I use as a catch-all and my beloved live-edge coffee table.


                     


There's an exceptional antique market on the outskirts of Tainan City, with friendly owners and reasonable prices but, well...although I try to go every time I'm in Tainan, it's still far. There are also places that restore furniture, or make custom pieces out of reclaimed materials, but they can be hard to find and get to.

I've found all sorts of great things at these shops, from gorgeous lacquerware to the aforementioned pendant-turned-table-light. One has to be careful, though: mixed in with some real finds are random bits from IKEA and Zara Home. That would be fine at a thrift store, but I'm not thrilled to see these things at antique store prices. 

My best luck has always been with Facebook Marketplace. After months of bookmarking and training the algorithm, I managed to score this teak dresser/sideboard for approximately 70% less than it would have cost at Scanteak (and it is Scanteak). I scored a real marble bowl for NT$80 which is unreal. Negotiating with sellers in Mandarin has been good language practice, as well. I'm not even all that mad that some of the items are grossly overpriced. That happens in the US, too, although sometimes in the US the price reflects some effort put into refurbishing or restoring something.

In fact, most (though not all) of the items on this sideboard are secondhand. 

What bothers me is how difficult it is to find items with prices clearly stated. If I see a real price I can choose to pay it, try to bargain it down or pass. If I see something listed for NT$1 or $66 or whatever, I have to message the seller to get the price. If it's so high that I don't even think it's worth bargaining -- and it usually is, that's why they don't state it outright -- I've wasted my time and theirs. It's now to the point that I don't even try, even with items I want, if no price is given.

This happens in secondhand Facebook groups too. Often, leaving off price is the norm, so even frequent sellers who used to list prices no longer do. There are some bright spots, like Buy Nothing Taipei and various groups where people who see free curbside finds post photos and addresses (though this has never really worked for me in Taiwan), but overall the caginess around pricing really harms the usefulness of online secondhand shopping.

This isn't to say that secondhand shopping in other countries is easy. Its newfound popularity in the US has caused higher prices, and as someone who doesn't have to buy secondhand but rather chooses to, I am at least theoretically part of the problem. That said, I also don't want to buy new things that it took resources to produce when there is so much waste in the world. 

At least when we travel, I can hit up thrift stores in the US, charity shops in the UK, op shops in Australia. Even in Taiwan, I can't complain too much. It takes awhile, but I have found some real treasures. I just wish there were more or better options here. 

Humble Pie, and Ko's Hypocrisy

Some people have fantastic housing!

This is a bit of a frankenpost, but we've had a frankenweek in Taiwanese politics.

First, yes, I was wrong about the KMT/TPP dalliance. There's no way Ko was promised the top spot on the ticket if negotiations could fall apart that quickly. Before it turned into a massive clownshow, my  Taiwanese teacher's pet theory was that the CCP gave Ma dirt on Ko: there's a reasonably popular notion that Ko was involved in organ harvesting in China. I thought this was unlikely because it has the ring of disinformation, but thought, it doesn't have to be that to still be dirt. 

Anyway, I was wrong, and the blackmail theory is probably wrong too. If one of us had been correct, Ko wouldn't have reneged like this.

Frozen Garlic has a fantastic post discussing how it all went down. He's absolutely right, of course. I'm still hung up, however, on why it went down. I don't have good answers, but it might be helpful to explore that thought for a bit. 

I didn't necessarily expect the KMT and TPP to form a formidable alliance; at best, I thought they'd dominate the polls for a time, but eventually it would all turn into a clownshow. How could it not, between the guy who does whatever he wants, the guy who expects everyone to do as he says, and Hou You-yih?

So really, the clownshow just happened earlier than I'd predicted! Yet something still feels...off.  For the initial agreement to happen, I expected either a carrot or a stick -- to either entice or threaten Ko into agreeing to this obviously bad deal. And yet, there appears to have been none.

Neither Ma Ying-jeou nor Ko Wen-je strike me as particularly smart in the way statesmen should be. Eric Chu is smarter than he lets on, but hardly brain trust material. I've already explored this in some detail, so I won't repeat myself. Yet, how could three men who are maybe not the brightest but also not acutely wanting in the brains department, plus Hou You-yih, all be so incredibly, astoundingly, clownishly dumb?

I have trouble buying the idea that the lot of 'em simply blundered into this clown show. Certainly, I tend not to be impressed by men who have power, and men who want power. But this? This is on another level. Perhaps Ma really was done in by his own 'thou shalt obey' arrogance, and Ko was done in by his own 'I do what I want!" version of the same. Also, Hou You-yih was there.

Maybe the CCP threw a lot of resources into forcing this alliance, and it blew up in their faces, too. In which case, ha ha!  Or maybe I'm overthinking it. 

I'd say that at least I'm not one of the chumps who thought Ko and Hou would make a formidable, hard-to-beat alliance, treating them as de facto the presumed future leaders of Taiwan. I always assumed they'd fall apart, I was just surprised that it took a few days, not a month. And yet, I was wrong too. I'm also kind of a chump. It's okay. 


But why does Ko have support at all?

As Ko might well cease to be relevant given the way he's just embarrassed himself, I wanted to take a brief and admittedly tad superficial look at why exactly he has (had?) a strong youth support base. I had trouble finding anything; a general sense of the KMT and DPP have both failed us, why not try this new guy who isn't afraid to say what he thinks? was about as deep as it seemed to get. 

Because I don't want this to turn into a 10,000 word rant, I'm going to end up talking about just one thing -- housing.

Ko is big on housing as a policy area, so there's a lot to analyze there. In fact, the housing issue might be all we need to discuss: the measure of him as a candidate can be taken from the way he talks about it. He's not better in any other area. His other big platforms on education and industry contain similar levels of flim-flam.

It can be hard to find real positions held by Ko. The media certainly doesn't have a lot to say. There's a lot of what in this article, for example, but no real why beyond, again, a dissatisfaction with 8 years of DPP administration, as well as an antipathy to the KMT's views on China. 

"All the DPP has to offer is resist China and protect Taiwan", it says, but then what does Ko have to offer that's any better? They decline to elaborate.

To be clear, I don't actually agree that the DPP has nothing else to offer. They're hardly perfect, but they've raised the minimum wage more than their opponents, passed a (likely ineffective) housing subsidy and a rental subsidy which many renters are unable to access, as their landlords often terminate rental agreements when they try -- the reasons why are a bit complex to get into here. They tend not to clarify these policies well, and it often comes down to the government making something available, but a person in power -- your boss or landlord -- blocking access. For that, they haven't offered a reasonable solution. Lai Ching-te was even critically quoted as saying renters should "talk to their landlords" in order to access the subsidy. Ha. Fat chance. 

And yet, again, it's not nothing, and this will be important in a moment.

Another piece from deep-green media SETN (三立) breaks down three reasons for Ko's support, but none of them are any more substantive than this. They offer three reasons, but two of them boil down to not liking the establishment parties, thinking Ko 'resists the system'  and a lack of ability to evaluate political discourse, which they also point out as an issue among voters working in tech. Only the middle one offers something new -- "appealingly packaged" ideas -- but what are these ideas?

Ko does talk a lot about housing prices. He's not wrong when he agrees with young voters regarding their "four nos": they can't find a good job, can't afford a home, which means they can't get married and can't have children. These lead to the final "no" -- no hope. He points to his record in Taipei of "promoting social housing" and his support of rental subsidies to help solve this issue. 

Rent subsidies? Isn't that exactly the policy that the DPP has been trying to expand and promote, however poorly they package it?

Social housing is affordable housing units built or otherwise made available so that young and economically disadvantaged people can meet their housing needs. Over on Bluesky, there was a discussion about his purported 'success' with social housing in Taipei. I'm not sure I see that success, as the rental market in Taipei is absolutely in the crapper, but that's not the most important point. 

Rather, while housing is indeed the purview of mayors, social housing receives a great deal of assistance and funding from the central government. Here's an old MOI press release about it, and here's a discussion of how little social housing Ko and Hou have actually built during their respective tenures as Taipei and New Taipei mayors, respectively. It clarifies that cities do receive subsidies for social housing, and that it's an initiative at the national level as well. 

That second article points out that Ko wasn't always a big supporter of social housing, considering social welfare projects a 'bottomless pit' and insisting that housing should be paid for entirely by residents (that is, at one point he had an anti-rent subsidy position). He certainly hasn't built as much social housing as he implies.

Because he's a flip-flopper, however, let's assume he's actually changed his views on this.

I can understand that housing is a key pain point for young voters. Buying a home anywhere you'd want to actually live in Taiwan, especially in Greater Taipei, is an anxiety-inducing, eye-watering joke. Taipei is famed for its excellent transportation network, but good luck affording a mortgage anywhere near that network. People are complaining that suburb (exurb?) Linkou is too expensive. And Linkou sucks! 

Even renting in Taipei is torturous. I'm terrified of what will happen when the inevitable day comes that we have to move. I check the Taipei rental market every few months just to see what it's like, and there's nothing in my initial searches that clears the threshold of acceptability. 

So, I can understand thinking that the guy who sounds innovative and talks up social housing in a way the major parties don't might be a good bet. He'll even tell you how much effort he put into social housing and rent subsidies as mayor of Taipei! 

But, again, who funded those subsidies? Who assisted with social housing projects? Where did the social housing and rent subsidy policies of the last 8 years even come from? Where did assistance in acquiring land to build social housing come from? The national government, which has been run by the DPP for the past 8 years. 

I can't say the DPP has done an amazing job at this. "Talk to your landlord about getting rent subsidies" is a terrible thing to say on the campaign trail. Housing costs continue to skyrocket, and every year even the once-reasonable Taipei rental market constricts a little more, leaving mostly overpriced garbage on offer. 

So, I suppose it's understandable that some young voters would decide that housing is their key issue, and of the three (oh wait, four) candidates, Ko appears to talk the most sense. He is able to package it in a more appealing, "straight-talking" way that makes "discuss it with your landlord" Lai Ching-te look like a fumbling old git. 

Underneath that, however, he's concealing quite a bit -- from his early anti-welfare stances to his use of central government funds that he then took credit for obtaining. He got all of that money and help because the DPP helped him, and how he's acting like they don't care about housing issues, but he does. 

Why stay in Taiwan?

It's the little things...or is it?

You probably don’t care about my life, but here’s the deal. I’ve had a somewhat tumultuous week professionally, although nothing that ended up being terribly deleterious. I don’t want to say too much about it, but I’ve been feeling frustrated about the limitations of teacher training opportunities in Taiwan for residents like me, despite how much we can help in the face of Taiwan’s push for internationalization. 

I have no desire to discuss the details behind this; it’s insider beef that you really don’t need, and might be wrong of me (or at least harmful to me) to divulge. 

I've also been feeling more frustrated than usual about Taiwan's naturalization laws. Nothing has changed since the 2007 reforms, opening up a pathway for magical stardusted special and senior foreign professionals, basically saying most foreigners who call Taiwan home -- whether they're white collar like me or blue collar like most immigrants here -- are garbage. Not worth caring about. 

Yes, the road to dual nationality may be narrow now, but there's room for it to expand. But I fear it will happen when I'm too old for it to matter. I'm not sure exactly how I will grow old in Taiwan as planned, because I can't get a mortgage and don't have local family, but landlords don't like to rent to the elderly. What am I supposed to do when I'm 80? If the law changes when I'm 60, that's a little too late to fix the problem. 

There's something to be said for fighting for something so that the next generation can enjoy fairer access. And yet, recently I've been wondering if this is enough. Wondering why I bother. 

With all this in the background, I’ve been trying to blog about politics to get my mind off it. Nothing comes out right, though. I have a few half-finished posts that I might wrap up and publish anyway, or perhaps not. We’ll see. Maybe I just need to not with the politics right now. 

Instead, I thought I'd examine something else. I know perfectly well that I'm not actually going to leave Taiwan (which, to be honest, is part of the problem. Maybe I should be more open to doing so). So rather than stewing in my own angry juices over this, perhaps I should talk a bit about why I stay. 

People love to ask why I moved to Taiwan. That story isn't very interesting. Studying in India made me want to learn more about Asia in general. I spent a year in China and didn't love it. And yet, I still felt there was a lot for me to learn, and I like the general feel and pace of life in large Asian cities. So, I came to Taipei mostly out of curiosity. I certainly didn't know much about it. 

Why I stay, though? Maybe that's worth discussing. I've been here for 18 years now. The pay isn't that good. Career opportunities are middling at best. I do have a fantastic local network, but most of my close family live on the other side of the world. Nobody loves Taipei's weather. My apartment is nice, but apartments in Taiwan generally aren't. There's the ever-looming China threat (though I imitate local residents in living my life as though that's not a thing). 

And yet here I am. Still. I've been thinking about this for awhile -- it's easy to rattle off reasons to leave. Any article about the "ghost island" can do that. The more fruitful area to examine is why I stay.

I've identified five very generalized reasons why, despite its faults, Taiwan is the country I chose to call home. These are five things that I think are important for any country I might live in long-term, and Taiwan happens to excel at them.

For my own reflection as much as yours, here they are: 

1.) Generally good infrastructure, including (most especially) public transit

Not all of Taiwan has good public transportation, but Taipei does, and it's fairly easy to get to any other town you might want to visit. Getting around that town might be a challenge, but you can always get there. I live in Taipei, though, and this city has some of the best public transit in the world. In general, I appreciate infrastructure that works. That includes buses that run on time, a clean metro system, convenient trains.

Compare that to the US, where the only city that has public transit that comes close to meeting my standards is New York. That also happens to be a city where I couldn't possibly afford to live. I tried living in Washington DC for seven years without a car. People say transit there is good. I say it's a nightmare. 

Still, assuming I'd never move back to the US, I could enjoy good public transit in Japan, South Korea, Hong Kong, Singapore. If we're talking inter-city, even Vietnam. Europe, too, but there aren't really good jobs for me there. China, generally, has reasonable public transit. What could knock some of those countries off the list?

2.) An open and democratic government

Well, there goes Singapore, Vietnam and Hong Kong. China is an obvious no-go. I once considered moving to IstanbuI, but I can't get past the importance of a reasonable system of government. I might not have the right to vote, but it's important to me that my local friends do; I would find it very hard to exist as an admittedly privileged American in a country where I could send my ballot back every few years, but locals I knew wouldn't have access to human rights that I consider fundamental. 

For myself, well, I like to opinionate. It's important to me to live in a country where I can do so without fear of government retribution.

Beyond that, there's just something depressing about living in an unfree society. You may or may not have access to good journalism. Random bullshit things may be banned. Your friends can't say what they really think; you may not even know what they really think, depending on how severe the repression is. 

Being in Taiwan for two -- soon to be three -- presidential handovers, countless protests, a legislative occupation, and all manner of public debates? That may seem unimportant or ineffable to some, but it matters to me. Taiwan's democratic society is a big draw. 

South Korea and Japan are democracies too, though. Why not move to one of those?

3.) An acceptable level of gender equality

I'm not saying Taiwan doesn't have sexism and misogyny. Of course it does. The gender pay gap is still above 15%. But, compared to the rest of Asia, I daresay it's doing fairly well. 

Brendan has told me stories about Korea, where he would see job ads that openly offered men and women disparate pay for the same work. 

I know someone in Japan who once detailed many little ways in which women face discrimination; she once saw a pregnant woman stand up on the train for a salaryman! Discussing why that would happen, locals told her that the pregnant woman has an easier, more restful life while the salaryman is tired from hard work, so of course he should get the seat. I don't know that this happens frequently in Japan, but that it happened at all tells me that it may be a fine country to visit, but it's not a place where I think I'd be very happy living. 

Everything from work culture to beauty standards feels so much harsher in those countries. The fact that women make up such a small percentage of the workforce in Japan and are deeply underrepresented in politics are other strikes against it. I'll take the country that elected a woman twice, thanks. 

Korea is similar; the gender wage gap there is astounding (Japan is almost as bad). I've enjoyed visiting both countries. As a woman, I want to live somewhere with more equality. 

That brings me to my next point. 

4.) A high level of public safety

It's not just pay, work, politics and beauty standards. All three countries have very high levels of public safety, including for women. As an American, this matters to me. It wasn't fun growing up in a country where it wasn't safe to be outside alone at night. But Taiwan manages the high public safety with a whole lot less of the ridiculous discrimination.

This matters not just for me, but for my LGBTQ+ friends. South Korea, for instance, is not a very safe place for many people dear to me. Public safety isn't just about whether or not you're likely to get mugged or pick-pocketed. It is also deeply related to who you are. I wouldn't want to live in a country where I might be targeted because I'm a woman, or where my friends might be targeted for being gay, nonbinary or trans. 

This, of course, knocks many countries off the list -- including the United States. 

I considered adding "a high level of overall development" to this list, because so many of my points are oriented around that. Advanced economies are more likely to have good public transit and safety, higher levels of gender equality and functional democratic governments. 

But not always -- the United States fails on most of these counts. Plenty of countries that aren't rich do have democratic governments. Besides, I don't think anyone wants a middle class white lady to prattle on about how she wants to live in an advanced economy. In fact, it's not actually one of the key criteria.

Instead, my fifth point is more specific but is still related to overall development markers. 

5.) National! Health! Insurance!

As an American, I cannot express how much this matters to me. I spent the first half of my twenties kinda miserable because I needed to see some doctors, but couldn't afford any of them. My lack of access to affordable health care in the US is directly responsible for the back surgery I needed during my first year in Taiwan. 

This really matters! Health insurance alone is enough to make me forsake the US forever. 

That said, this point has been bugging me recently, because I'm in the middle of a tooth implant that isn't covered by Taiwan's NHI. All told, it will cost me about NT$87,000. The dentist has been clear that for me, it's a necessity (another one of my crowns is in danger if I don't get a tooth put in next to it). And yet, it's entirely out of pocket. 

I think NHI should cover it. After all, it's an absolute necessity for me unless I want to literally be toothless in a few years. 

But, all of that aside, I'm grateful that the many times I've needed to see a doctor in this country, that I could actually afford to do so. 

I'm still not feeling entirely all right about the state of my life in Taiwan these days. It hurts to want to commit to a place, without seeing a clear future there, especially in old age.

There is another reason I stay, but it's intensely personal: I truly believe in what Taiwan stands for. To me, Taiwan means standing up to a dictatorship that landed on your soil and tried to force you to submit, turning the country instead into a functioning and peaceful democracy. It means refusing to shatter under the constant threats from yet another dictatorship that wants to annex you by any means necessary. It means building one of the more advanced and liberal societies in Asia -- if not the most liberal -- on the back of a tragic and bitter history of colonialism and oppression.

That, to me, is worth fighting for. It's worth staying for. It's not on the list because it's not a specific thing Taiwan has, it's more of a narrative that Taiwan embodies.

It does help, however, to think through the reasons why I've stayed, and run through the possibilities of other countries where I might relocate. None quite hit the five criteria -- gender equality, health insurance, democracy, public transit and public safety -- that Taiwan does. Most countries can be exciting, interesting, historically noteworthy, or absolutely lovely. 

But I can't think of another one that actually meets these five benchmarks, all of which are crucial to me. Can you?

The online teaching cloister

I moved to Taipei to enjoy the city, not to be stuck in my apartment all day

A few weeks ago, I began my first face-to-face foundational TESOL training course since COVID hit Taiwan. We'd gone online at some point and were struggling to resume in-person learning. 

It had truly been so long that in the fog of the late pandemic I no longer remember when it happened, only that trying to teach that course online presented a host of problems. I couldn't really demonstrate various in-person interaction patterns, for instance. Nor could we discuss classroom management components such as boardwork and layout in an impactful way. A practicum (demo) is a vital component of this course, but it's harder for inexperienced teachers to lead interactive demos online. Everything takes longer online, too, and it was a challenge to cover the course requirements. 

When we finally opened a face-to-face course, on day three someone tested positive for COVID. Within a week, about half the class was infected, and I was teaching face-to-face with four students and a computer running an online meeting with the other three. I then tested positive, and it was back online for all of us.

My heart sank when I realized how it would go: back to my home office, back behind a screen. Yes, it's an incredible privilege to have a spare room for a home office at all, but it is draining to be stuck in there for days on end, without many chances to go out while Brendan left everyday for in-person work.

Gently put, it's a cloister. More critically, it's a prison.

While I've transitioned back somewhat to in-person teaching and teacher training, enough of it remains online that my latest stint at home prompted me to reflect anew on teaching and teacher training as a profession now that someone like me is just as likely to be working at a screen as in a room with their students or trainees.

To be blunt, I don't like teaching or teacher training online. At all. I've become accustomed to it, and of course I can do it. And yet, while some say online teaching brings people together -- it's possible to take classes you never dreamed possible if teachers and students can meet remotely -- I feel as though the screen divides me from the learners. It causes a rupture, a block. 

Everything takes longer, everything requires more planning. It's more difficult to develop rapport, especially when I have to put my foot down about cameras being left on if at all possible. Some never do, and there are situations where I can't (or shouldn't) force the issue. Imagine having students whose faces you've never seen, whom you'd never recognize on the street. I didn't become a teacher to interact with black squares all day, and I find it very hard to develop rapport this way.

Even with cameras on, I find it difficult to build the same connections with learners and trainees. To "make eye contact" I have to look at the camera, not the face on the screen. It's the same for the learner. I can toggle between these and create a simulacrum of actual, in-person, we-see-each-other eye contact, but it's not actually the same. The effect is ineffable, but definitely there, and entirely negative. 

One-on-one classes aren't so bad, as you only have to do this back-and-forth with one face. The effect is deeply felt in groups, however, especially if one of us is presenting.

I had an office job in the US all those years ago; lots of screen time, very little face-to-face contact. I hated it, and became a teacher because this is exactly what I don't want. It's kind of like attending meetings all day (something which can be tiring if you're working remotely), and you are the coordinator and host of every single meeting. I'm good at this in person. Online? Honestly, not so much -- because I don't want to be at a computer, period.

Pre-pandemic, my various jobs required me to jet all over Taipei and beyond for work. I explored parts of the city I'd rarely or never set foot in otherwise. 

Again, I realize this is a privilege. I understand that most people take the same route to the same office every day if they’re not working remotely, so “going in” isn’t particularly desirable. I get bored easily with routine, which is why I chose a career path through which I’d frequently find myself in different places. It got me out of the house, and I was able to see different parts of the city. My schedule changed often enough that there was always something at least a little new in this; it never got monotonous and I didn’t resent the extra time it took. I like to be on the move. 

You know what I don’t like? Being stuck at home most of the day, unable to leave my neighborhood or even my apartment, sometimes for entire days. If I have a training course in the morning, then an afternoon and evening class, the furthest I’m likely to go that day is the nearby 7-11. If I’m really lucky I might get to go to the ‘everything store’ down the street! 

I hate this. Plenty of people like working from home as it frees them from tiring commutes and allows them to be comfortable in their work setup. That’s great for them. It’s not for me. Mental health walks are uninspiring; I’m not good at walking with no destination. I’ve found myself making up reasons to go outside, which usually involve coffee or shopping, but they rarely take me anywhere new. No new cafes, little local restaurants or novel bus routes. No “hey there’s an Indian restaurant near Sanmin Road!” 

There is nothing worse for an extrovert than being at home all day, usually alone as Brendan still teaches face-to-face, and not feeling the rapport bump from work, either.

I have had more in-person opportunities recently, having started a new part-time gig that I'm enjoying quite a bit and pays very well. It's partly face-to-face, and that helps -- but they also underscore that being mostly online is a problem.

In fact, let's talk a bit about boredom and big career questions.

It’s easy to say I’m transitioning from teaching to more teacher training because it pays much better (to be clear, it does), but I’m also motivated by the level of challenge. It seems as though it should be easy to coast at the sort of work I’ve been doing forever, but I tend to get distracted and stuck if I do the same thing for too long. I know stagnation affects my performance, so it’s time to reach. This means more work overall, but that's the fundamental truth of what it means to seek challenge.

If all of this sounds vague, it’s because I don’t want to give too many specifics about work for all the obvious reasons. Besides, I genuinely like the people I work with. Most of them run their businesses well, or at least well enough that I don’t walk. I don’t want to hop on my blog to gossip about good people. 

Yet internally, I’ve been fighting…something. Distractedness? Demotivation? The delicate balance of work with my sub-optimal health? It could be any or all of these, and 

one of the leading causes is the pivot to online teaching.

Of course it's not the only reason. Working in Taiwan can be tough in certain ways: raises are rare, there’s no such thing as a paid holiday, it’s a battle just to get employers to do basic things like contribute to labor insurance and pension. In general I do not feel that teaching in Taiwan pays enough at the higher levels of ability and experience; I stay in Taiwan because I love Taiwan, but the honest truth is I could make more money in just about any other Asian country. 

Teacher training is a lot fairer in terms of compensation, and I won't lie: that's another reason why I gravitate towards it.

Every day I fight the notion that I’m good at my job simply because I’m a white native speaker. I think I am indeed good at my job, but that’s not the reason! 

None of those are the core of it, though. I’m used to the lack of benefits, and beyond wanting to be comfortable I’m not particularly motivated by money. (I'm only somewhat money-driven.) I didn't start to feel this distractedness until work mostly went online. Period, end of story, that's it: everything else is manageable but remote teaching is not what I want, and never will be. 

What's worse, because I don't actually want to be teaching online, I'm not as good at it. I'm less careful; teacher talking time shoots up; interactions don't vary as much as would be optimal; I'm less innovative. I'm less motivated online, full stop.

Online teacher training is even harder to pull off, but at least the level of challenge keeps it interesting.

Just to clarify, I’ve been forthright about this at work. Nobody reading this who knows me in real life would be surprised to hear it. It doesn’t really change the current situation, though — how could it? 

There are benefits to being online, however, that almost negate this (almost). Collaborative documents, chat boxes, interactive whiteboards: all things made possible by an online interface. It would be harder to schedule my own Taiwanese lessons if we met face-to-face, and I will probably start Armenian lessons online in the near future -- something that would have been impossible not that long ago. Trainees who can't attend my sessions in person are able to log in for the online ones; they get a benefit they wouldn't have been able to access in the Before Times.

That said, all this new technology never runs quite as smoothly as it should to be considered a true advantage. There’s always that one learner who can’t figure out how to access the materials on Google Docs (or can’t access it at all if they’re in China or have some sort of work-related block to that function). Zoom’s interactive whiteboard is clumsy and annoying. My noise-canceling computer is fantastic when my cleaner is vacuuming, but not great when we need to use audio recordings, as they don’t tend to play clearly. Getting everyone to mute themselves to listen on their own takes — you guessed it! — more time. 

Teaching online doesn’t even come with the only real benefit of remote work, which is freedom to travel and do your work elsewhere for awhile. I can’t go to a cafe — it’s a class! I suppose I could head south or east, but I can’t, say, fly to Europe or the US and work from there unless I want to keep some very weird hours. I’ve tried (ask me about 6am classes at my sister's old apartment in Hoboken someday) and it never really works out. 

It's caused me to ask some Big Career Questions. I love teacher training and don't want to give that up, but if I took on less teaching work and picked up, say, an editing or materials development job, at least I could go to a cafe for a change of scenery instead of spending the entire day in my little office cloister. I won't turn down online teacher training because I enjoy it too much, but I have considered refusing online language teaching to do this. I haven't pulled the plug on that yet, but we'll see. 

There’s no clear solution here; this is just my life now. If I had a different sort of job where I was desperate to escape the fluorescent horror and greige cubicle walls of an office, I’d probably welcome remote work. I became a teacher in part to avoid that! One of the reasons I’ve sought out more work is for those face-to-face hours; it will make the online portions of my job more bearable. At least I’ll have more chances to go somewhere! 

In quarantine, who can hear you scream?

My teeth are like these chairs

My teeth and I have a somewhat adversarial relationship. I just want teeth that work and don't disintegrate. If they stayed in my mouth and met that most basic criteria, they could be brushed twice a day with a sustainable toothbrush and fancy Italian toothpaste that gives one's breath a whiff of sweet jasmine. 

Sadly, it was not meant to be. I don't like my teeth, mostly because they don't like me. The devils just won't stop acting up. They develop problems at the worst possible times: in Singapore on vacation, while I have COVID, in the middle of proficiency test examining.

So, I just wanted to write a little about my experience in quarantine -- specifically, what happens if you develop a bit of a dental drama at a time when no one can help you.

It seems I've developed a severe toothache. This tooth has bothered me for awhile; I actually need an implant, but the dentist says to keep on keepin' on until there's no alternative. Implants are expensive and the procedure takes awhile to complete. That, and every time I think about a screw going into my jawbone I squirm and tear up and he sees it. I know it's not supposed to hurt, but tell my lizard brain that. 

This round of tooth pain is so unbearable that I am afraid to take more painkillers, as I've already reached the 24-hour hard limit. Ice helps but only briefly. I have numbing gel and clove oil and they do not work. I can barely eat and I'm sleeping poorly.

Knowing that they will let you out of quarantine for medical emergencies, I called 1922. They gave me the city government phone number, which I called this morning. 

The city government worker who answered said that the whole "emergency quarantine leave" thing is only for the actual emergency room. If there's one thing I know from my dental troubles, it's that emergency rooms do not include dental care unless you've been in, say, a major car accident and your face is messed up in a very urgent way. 

"Nobody's going to be able to treat you," she said, not unsympathetically. "The best they'll do is give you more pain medication."

You mean the pain medication I am quite literally in danger of overdosing on, which still doesn't work? 

Yep.

Even though I tested myself this morning and at the 10-minute mark stated by the testing procedures, it came up negative? (After another 15 minutes a faint T-line appeared; perhaps I am not as COVID-free as I'd thought when the timer went off). 

Yep.

I understood the minute she said permission to leave was only for emergency room services. Like in the US, the health system acts as though your teeth are somehow not part of your body -- any other pain might be an emergency but nobody will help you with your teeth. Taiwan's health insurance covers fillings and root canals, but not crowns or implants. Teeth, apparently, don't matter and tooth pain doesn't really count. 

I couldn't really be angry about this. Upset, unhappy and in pain? Sure. But "angry" isn't fair: if you were still under a government-mandated quarantine anywhere in the world, would a dentist see you? I mean, that's the kind of doctor you breathe on the most!

The only real differences between Taiwan and the US in this regard seem to be that Taiwan enforces quarantine a lot more strictly, and in Taiwan you can actually call someone to ask what your options are. If you're lucky, you might even get help in English -- I no longer need this, but there was a time when I did. I feel for newcomers who are now in the same position. I feel even more for the majority of foreigners whose native language isn't English, who may have even more difficulty accessing information and help. 

An American friend said it seemed unfair: if I wanted treatment it should be my right to break quarantine and seek it. I understand that perspective, but the Taiwanese perspective that I could cause the dentist to fall ill and potentially create an outbreak in a medical office made sense. Taiwan wasn't going to let me die of a brain infection, but I would potentially have to endure some pain for a few days longer than I'd like. 

I did not want that pain, but I understood the general principle. I'd also learned that naproxen, or a combination of ibuprofen and acetaminophen, were more effective than either ibuprofen or acetaminophen alone, that sucking on whole cloves worked better than the oil, and that if I iced it for longer I could calm the pain somewhat. It wouldn't be fun but it would be survivable. 

I made an appointment at a hospital for Wednesday morning, the minute I am out of quarantine. No private clinic would see me until 14 days after a positive test. I could make it until Wednesday, but not the week after. 

And then...a miracle. 

When I reported to Ren'ai Hospital that my tooth pain was severe enough that I wanted to see a specialist and could not easily wait, I thought the phone number they gave me was a dead end unless I actually developed sepsis. 

But no! A hospital staffer unexpectedly called me today to say they'd gotten a report of my situation and asked if I wanted to go to the emergency room. I said I would be willing to, but if a dentist wouldn't see me, what would be the point? 

So she looked around and found a dentist willing to do online consultation. It's not perfect -- dentistry really requires a better examination of one's teeth than a phone can provide -- but it's someone, willing to do something. She even added me on her own Line to help me set up the consultation with the dentist.

That all worked out (though the process was a little confusing). I still haven't figured out how to get pharmacies to deliver to my home, so a friend came by, picked up my NHI card and some money, ran it up to the dentist, got my drugs and ran them back, all without coming face-to-face with anyone in the House of Plague.

I don't know if it would have rolled out differently if I'd been anything other than a white woman. Would a local have gotten such help? (Would they have needed it, knowing the language and having better connections than I ever could?) How about a foreigner who wasn't obviously Western? I have no way of knowing, I can only relate the experience I had. 

Perhaps I was helped because I happened to go through Ren'ai Hospital, and someone there happened to take my issue seriously enough to step in. Would I have gotten care if I'd reported another way? I have no way of knowing. 

Honestly, this was better than anything I could have pulled off in the US (without lying about my COVID status there). I understand worry about putting your health in the hands of a big government system -- what if they prohibit the path that's best for you? Yet, I can't say that's what happened. Yes, Taiwan can force you to stay in quarantine and the US can't. But would anyone in the US have thought to call me up and get me what I need like that? Doubt it. I'd have been on my own.

This isn't to say I prefer all-powerful, paternalistic or authoritarian governments. I don't. I would not have gotten what I needed in most such governments. Could you imagine things working out this way in China? I can't. 

Rather, I prefer governments that at least make an effort, even two years into a pandemic. I know that's hard to do in larger countries like the US, but the US also has more resources. They could try to meet residents' needs while having stronger policies to fight COVID. They just...don't. Maybe it's a cultural thing -- I feel like in the US the service you'd get would be very much dependent on your ZIP code. But from here, it looks like giving up.

My experience didn't deliver a perfect solution, but now I have what I need to make it to an appointment. I'm still in pain but I hope it will start subsiding. I feel pressure in my tooth from swelling or (not to get too gross about it) pus. But I got necessary drugs, and I won't be putting any doctors at risk.

What to do if you get COVID as a foreigner in Taiwan

I don't have a relevant cover photo, so enjoy this pretty tile from Portugal.

Other than having "I've finally bagged me the 'rona!" stuck in my head for the past few days, I've been thinking about how to help other foreigners in Taiwan with the whole process of it all, once you've tested positive.

It's not particularly straightforward, even if your Mandarin is pretty strong, and most of the guidance online is inadequate. "Find a clinic or hospital near you for a telehealth appointment!" is not useful if you feel terrible and are not up to searching online to find one. "You can get medication delivered to your home!" is similarly unhelpful without clear directions as to how, especially if you're not feeling well and don't have the energy to figure it out on your own. 1922 varies depending on who's available to talk to you at any given time: one friend got immediate help, the other got asked her name and phone number in Mandarin and was told someone would call her (fine if your Mandarin is okay, not great if you don't speak it.) 

So, I thought I'd do my best to write a guide. This is specifically aimed at people whose Mandarin is worse than mine, who don't have, say, a local significant other to help. Mine's not perfect, but it exists -- if yours is better, you probably don't need my help! 

Before you test

I strongly recommend, before you even feel sick, to have a plan in place. I didn't -- unwisely kept putting it off as non-urgent -- and had to figure all this out while sick. Learn from my mistake! What sort of plan? Well, you'll want to: 

1.) Download the EUCare app and register, if you have National Health Insurance (you can't use it if you don't). The registration is offered in English, and it doesn't obligate you to make an appointment. You'll need to verify your phone number and possibly e-mail.

Be sure to enjoy the "Congratulations, you are now part of us!" message you get when your registration is successful! I had a little trouble registering, but when I swiped the app closed then re-opened it, it worked.

2.) Figure out where you'll do your telemedicine appointment in advance (which may or may not be through EUCare). If you plan to use the Taipei City Hospital system and don't have anyone to pay the registration fee for you, then you may want to download a relevant app such as Taipei Pass in advance, as they have to review your account before you can use it. 

3.) Have a plan in place for paying the registration fee and picking up any medicine -- this can be done through online payment and home delivery, or having a trusted person be able to take your health insurance card to the hospital or clinic and pick it up for you. I strongly recommend discussing/agreeing in advance with those close to you regarding who will help whom if you suddenly can't leave the house. Even if you have a partner, they may get sick too. It is so much easier to have someone you can call at the ready to go pick up what you need.

4.) Keep a supply of painkillers, cough medicine and diarrhea medicine at home (just trust me on that last one). Some of those flu drink packets don't hurt, either. I also recommend having some citrus or sour candy or lemon drink mix on hand if you think you might be taking Paxlovid. 

Other items my friends or I have felt useful to already have at home:

Extra pet food, if you have pets (have a plan if you have a dog who needs to go out); extra garbage bags; sufficient toilet paper; lip balm, toothpaste and lotion; seasonings to make your food appetizing; and a stash of something you like that's not perishable so you don't need to immediately order grocery delivery -- for me that's frozen dumplings but it can be anything you can survive on for a day or two. 

5.) Figure out in advance if you qualify for Paxlovid (here's an FDA guide from the US and another guide regarding what Paxlovid is and who should take it). In Taiwan, I don't know every regulation, but chronic issues such as asthma or high BI qualify you, among others. There are also risk factors (such as liver or kidney issues and certain contraindicated drugs). I'm not a doctor; if you think you qualify, be ready to ask at your appointment. They may not ask you; you'll need to bring it up. 

Not everyone needs Paxlovid, so don't ask for doses you don't actually need. I qualified and received it, Brendan didn't, and he's doing fine. If you do need it, however, be prepared.

6.) Have some idea how you will get food delivery, especially if you have, say, a fobbed elevator and delivery people cannot get to your door. This may mean talking to your doorperson, making arrangements with friends or stocking up in advance on non-perishables.

Testing positive

You no longer need a PCR confirmation; an at-home rapid test is sufficient. You will need your health insurance card, positive test result, and a pen/marker. 

Now you'll need a confirmation appointment. You can do this in person, but you can't take public transportation, so if you don't have a vehicle (or are too sick to drive) and there's no one to take you, you'll have to walk. 

I strongly recommend that you do this online instead. 

Using EUCare

You can do so through the EUCare app. I'll link to some other resources after the screenshots below.

Once you register, there is a button for making an online appointment -- it's the "Rapid Test Positive Confirmation" button with the bell. 

They only have one clinic (located in Tainan) that does confirmations all day, so if you can't find anything near you, select "Tainan": 

The other options to the right are, in order: Taipei City, New Taipei, Taoyuan, Taichung, Tainan, Yilan, Hualien and Taitung. 

I don't know why it doesn't include every county, but this is an online confirmation, so it doesn't really matter. 

If you've selected Tainan because it's the only one open, choose Chimei, the first option:

I can't promise you'll only be given this option, so if there are several, choose this one: 

Choose a doctor and time (this is just one option, from what was available when a friend tested positive):

You may be asked to upload a picture of your health insurance card and positive result, and you may also be asked if there's anything else the doctor should know. You can type this in English. 

If the system acts up, just close the app and try again. It's a little buggy but it usually works at least on the second try. If you choose an option other than Tainan Chimei, and can't read what the choices are, I recommend getting Google's Translate app, which allows you to upload photos, including screenshots, to tell you what they say. 

If you don't get those options when you register, contact them via Line (the Help icon at the bottom -- make sure you have Line installed as it will take you over there.)  

Or just sign out and in again: pink button to sign out, yellow to get back in, and the circled option once you do that.

You can also use the Help function other issues with the app, and if you tell them in the beginning you prefer English they'll do their best (I didn't use EUCare but a friend did, and this is what he told me.) When you add their Line you'll get a bunch of messages -- these just tell you that the Help service is for using the EUCare platform, not actual medical attention, a rapid test confirmation or a COVID taxi, and that it's illegal to insult or abuse them or send pornography. 

You'll get a notification when it's time to join. Just open the app and press the button.

The doctor you get should be able to speak English (most doctors in Taiwan do, even if service or support staff do not). If you have any concerns such as picking up medicine you can ask at this time. Have your address ready -- if your confirmation appointment is not close to you, they can send any medicine to a nearby pharmacy.

According to another friend this can get difficult if you don't speak Mandarin -- if you don't, it's best to have someone who does on hand to help you. You'll have to choose the pharmacy and then have someone pick it up for you, or call to have it delivered. 

However, there doesn't appear to be a charge to use EUCare -- at least, my friend wasn't asked for any money.

Taipei City Hospital (for Taipei residents)

If you live in Taipei City, you can make an appointment through the city hospital system. This is what I used. The page tells you about how to do this -- I checked it in Translate mode for you all, and I can confirm it's pretty readable. You'll need the same items as above: National Health Insurance card (if you have one -- if you don't, have a photo ID ready), positive test and a marker. Click on one of the options in green: 



The options, in order are:

Chunghsiao/Zhongxiao (near MRT Houshanpi)
Ren'ai (at Ren'ai-Da'an intersection, near Zhongxiao Fuxing)
Chunghsing/Zhongxing (near Dihua Street)
Heping (near Longshan Temple)

Women's and Children's (on Nanhai Road near Freedom Square)

Choose whatever is most convenient for you and -- hopefully -- the person you have lined up to pick up your medicine and pay your fee. Actually inputting the information is not very hard: 



Choose a date (usually the same day or next day). 上午 is the morning clinic, 下午 is afternoon. It asks for your full name, date of birth, ARC number, phone number and address as well as a captcha. I put in my address in Mandarin, so I don't know if it will accept English. If you're worried about this, have your address in Mandarin ready to copy and paste. These are just examples of choices if you click "Ren'ai".

Click the blue button at the bottom to get your number. Then add the relevant Line ID and change your account display name.

You'll also need a method of payment for the NT50 registration fee if nobody can go to the relevant hospital for you. You'll need to download one of the the relevant apps such as Taipei Pass or the city hospital app (the latter in Chinese, for you to copy and paste: 臺北市立聯合醫院行動掛號). 

Taipei Pass takes awhile to activate as they have to review your registration. The city hospital app is only in Mandarin, and even though I can read everything on it, I can't figure out how to register. So, I strongly recommend you have an agreement with someone in advance. 

I used Ren'ai. I was asked to add the relevant Line ID and change my display name to my name and appointment number (an example is given on the information page.) They sent a message a few minutes before with a link, which I clicked on. A button appeared to enter the conference room and I did. The appointment was efficient, professional and in English. I didn't see that they actually used Line at all!

My husband was asked to add a different Line account when he tested positive (yes, we are a COVID House now) -- mine was tpechra9, his was tpechra8. His appointment actually was through Line, so just stay by your phone and wait for a notification. Have a picture of your ID/NHI card and positive test ready. I was asked to show mine -- all the appointments are recorded -- but he was asked for a photo upload. 

There are specific pickup windows for medicine, which is handled outside the main hospital. Ask your doctor which window your pickup buddy will need. If you need it delivered, ask at this time. I am not sure how to actually do this, as we had someone pick it up for us both times (Brendan did mine, and a friend did Brendan's). 

If you think you qualify for Paxlovid, be sure to proactively ask about it. It does not cost extra.

Local Clinics

You can also confirm your positive result through a local clinic. However, when I attempted to find one, I found that feeling like absolute garbage did not improve my ability to find that information and make phone calls in Mandarin. Turns out, being barely able to sit upright makes it difficult to do something in a foreign language. Who would've thought!

If you do want to go this route, here is a page listing all clinics which do positive result confirmation so you don't have to root around on Google Maps, like I tried to do. Again, learn from my mistakes!

Each link will take you to a city government page with some PDF links. These are all in Chinese but they translate to English fairly well (again, I checked for you). The PDFs are what contain the actual clinic and hospital contact information; you have to call yourself. 

In Taipei, the city hospital system is certainly easier to deal with, but this may be of help if you are outside Taipei. It doesn't translate well, as the links disappear. If you don't have even a little Mandarin, I recommend you at least be able to recognize the characters for where you live if you want to use this method.

Lienchiang (Matsu) and Kinmen just list the clinics with no links -- it's up to you to look them up and call them. No, they probably don't speak English, so if that's a problem you'll want to stick with EUCare.

Keep in mind that while the doctors usually speak English, the staff often don't. If you feel comfortable calling around while you are sick, then you probably didn't need my help in the first place! However, I wanted to include this option.

After confirmation

The confirmed case form

Soon after you are a confirmed case, you'll receive a text message with a link to a form which is helpfully all in Mandarin. Unfortunately, I had not thought to write this post when I received it, so I filled it out and sent it off without taking screenshots. 

If you can read Mandarin, it won't be that hard (though the information for close contacts -- that's family and workplaces only -- can get a bit lengthy. It's not required, but if you do have close contacts who aren't aware that you're positive you do need to fill it out.) 

If you don't, my best recommendation is to take screenshots and open them in the Translate app. Some difficult sections, such as asking you your neighborhood or 里, are actually optional. I happen to know my li but not every foreigner does, and it's a pain to look up.

Soon after, you'll receive a bilingual notification of quarantine, which will tell you what day you can leave home. This should be sent to you by text, with the last six numbers of your ID as the password. The link does expire after a few days, so I suggest you download this. I had to email it to myself and open it on my desktop to do so. 

The phone calls

You should receive two phone calls on your first official day: one from your district health office and one from whoever is designated with checking on you for the national government (for me, someone from Ren'ai Hospital calls daily). At least, that's true for me -- Brendan says he didn't get a call today, but I did. 

The district health office is your friend -- if you need help with something like garbage service, tell them so. If you're unsure, take down their number. You can always call them later to ask for help, as they'll only call you once. 

Depending on where you are, the district health office may not speak English. I don't know what to tell you except to be ready for this. 

The daily call checks on your symptoms for the national database. I usually talk to them in Mandarin, and you get all types. The first one confidently spoke English before I even tried to break out my language skills. The next day, the caller offered, but seemed happy she didn't need to. The third caller was clearly terrified of talking to a foreigner at all, even though I assured her she didn't need to use English. So, you know, you get all kinds.

If you don't speak Mandarin and make it clear in the beginning that you need English, they may make sure someone who speaks it will call you daily, or transfer you. I can't promise that, but that's how these things usually shake out. 

I'm quarantined but need to see a doctor for something else!

If you get sick with some other thing while in quarantine, you can make an appointment through EUCare (go to the button that says "Specialist" and choose from the options (it will again be a list of hospitals and clinics by location in the same order as above). In Taipei your best option is Mackay (台北馬偕紀念醫院), which is second on the list if you click "臺北". Choose your preferred clinic by the photos -- for example, for persistent cough, click on the lungs. Choose the last one, Family Medicine, if you're unsure what you need.  Input your information and a photo of your NHI card, and specify what you need in the box. You can do this in English. Then book the appointment and wait for the notification. 

The only part that may be confusing is the "Unified ID" (統一編號). That's usually a term for a business ID, but it's used here. Input your regular ARC/APRC ID number. 

You can also call 1922 for help, though their ability to do much will depend on who's staffing it at that time. Some people I know have gotten excellent service, some have gotten a gruff request for a phone number in Mandarin, so someone could call them back in English. 

I personally have developed a toothache in quarantine, and will probably call 1922 about it tomorrow, so I'll update with any useful information (there is no dental icon on EUCare). 


Other advice

These are just some tips I have from being in quarantine. 

First, I cannot stress enough to prepare in advance. I had done some of the not-yet-positive things I suggested above, but not all of them. Be smarter than me. Agreeing in advance with multiple friends that you'll all help each other will especially make everything so much easier. 

Secondly, if you do get Paxlovid and develop Paxlovid Mouth, the secret to killing that awful taste long enough to eat is citrus. It could be lemonade, lemon water, sour candies, Vitamin C tablets (the kind that come in the yellow and green tube, or the Korean ones in the moon-shaped plastic dispenser work great.) It could even be Pocari Sweat, which is mildly citrusy. But you'll want something -- eat a sour candy or drink lemon water if the taste becomes unbearable or you want to eat a meal that doesn't remind you of battery acid upchuck. It kind of tastes like a bitter chemical sewage; I really cannot emphasize enough how awful it is. 

But lemon and citrus kill it! It's kind of the big secret to surviving those five days while eating somewhat normally. Stock up. 

Drink massive amounts of water. We're talking as much as you can take. Be ready to pee it all out, but just keep drinking. 

Brendan says coffee every morning helps his symptoms. I drink it too, but haven't noticed that it makes them much better. It's worth trying, however. 

Rest even if you feel okay, at least for the first few days. Use this as an excuse to do nothing. 

There is no need to test daily. You can't leave for a week anyway, so it's not worth testing until you're close to your quarantine end date. Save your tests!

If you've read this far, there's a fair chance you're sick. If not, stay healthy!