Worrying about what people think (Taipei)

 

I arrived in Taipei on Sunday 27 December 1974 for my new job with Conoco Taiwan.

    I didn’t have any winter gear, so I bought some sweaters and a Mackintosh (waterproof coat) in Hong Kong where I’d spent two half days en route as a tourist.

    Being from the tropics, I felt self-conscious about wearing a winter coat if it wasn’t cold enough — that people could tell from miles away that I was from a hot country.  

    So, each morning, I’d look out of my bedroom window to check the weather — which is all we need to do in Singapore:  Is it raining or not?  

    It happened to be sunny every time, so I’d leave for work without my Mac.  By the time I finished work, however, it’d be dark, cold and raining.  (Taipei is wet and rainy most of the time throughout the winter.)  I had to grab a cab home every day.  Luckily, I was earning a lot of money (working for an American company — and oil company at that, too) and the cost of living in Taiwan at the time was low for my salary.

    After a few more times of this, I learned not to be silly about appearances.  After all, I could always just carry my Mac over my arm if it was not cold enough for me to wear it.  

    Now, five decades later and in London where people don’t really care (or don’t stare even if they do notice), I’m even saying to my old friend Valerio, “So what?  Why does one have to wear matching socks?” when he reports that his socks seem to go AWOL after a while and he ends up with single socks that he doesn’t know what to do with.  

    Yes, age does that to one:  one doesn’t worry that much anymore about what people think.

(Taipei, 1974)