The right place, at the right time.

I had a good, long conversation with my sister yesterday. It was desperately needed. It was so nice to catch up on each other’s lives, since we’re living on opposite sides of the world for a year. I found out we’re both going through some of the same emotions.

One thing I noticed is that we both have some moments of ” What the heck am I doing here? Why am I not at home doing something ‘normal’?”

No matter how much I love Taipei, those thoughts are inevitable. They just are. On bad days, and even sometimes on good days, thoughts like that creep into my head. It’s a struggle to get past at times. Especially when my students get rowdy. Or I’m homesick.

However.

More often than not, there are so many moments where it hits me: I’m teaching English. In TAIWAN, of all the places. A year ago, I never would have imagined that this is where I’d end up. Never.

And I love that. And I know, despite all the struggles of living in Asia, this is where I’m supposed to be right now.

I’m meeting wonderful, interesting people — from every corner of the world. I’m working with some truly amazing students. (I mean, come on, my class of 2 year olds knows the American ABC’s, and colors and the names for fruits and veggies. Brilliant little babies.) Right now I live two minutes away from both a bustling night market AND a mind-boggling clothing market. Rows and rows and rows of clothes, shoes, jewelry. Heaven on earth, maybe? I think yes.

A year ago I had a vague idea for myself: I would take a time-out from “real life” and a job I, to put it nicely, couldn’t stand. I thought I would travel and teach for a year, then come home and figure out things from there — whether that meant going back to school to get my master’s degree or finding something better to do as far as a job went. But I planned on staying in Prague, or at least somewhere in Eastern Europe. That was the plan. I thought it would happen naturally.

And despite all those plans, here I am: Literally on the other side of the world. It just goes to show: You can plan all you want, but that doesn’t mean life will unfold the way you want it to.

I’m laughing at myself now. I love that I thought I knew what would happen. Ah, well. That’s just how it goes, I suppose.

You can plan all you want, but that doesn’t mean life will unfold the way you want it to.

So my new plan? Just live life.

When I moved to Boston I spent all my time analyzing every single thought I had. I picked over every experience, and every interaction. It made for some good blog content, but seriously? I know I missed out on some good things. I got too stuck in my head.

Since I’ve been here, I’ve been focused on trying to enjoy the moment, to commit things to memory a little more, rather than just writing a blog post in my head.

There has to be a happy medium, right?

Anyway. To the point: I may not know right now what the point is of me being here. Maybe it’s just to experience some new culture. Maybe this will lead me somewhere else I never thought I’d end up. Maybe I’ll just have a fun year, go home and get on with life.

Who the hell knows? I don’t. I just have to keep holding on to some faith in something: Faith that the decisions I’m making are the right ones for me.

And here’s my inspiration for this post, from the show “How I Met Your Mother”:

“The great moments of your life won’t necessarily be the things you do, they’ll also be the things that happen to you. Now, I’m not saying you can’t take action to affect the outcome of your life, you have to take action, and you will. But never forget that on any day, you can step out the front door and your whole life can change forever. You see, the universe has a plan, kids, and that plan is always in motion. A butterfly flaps its wings, and it starts to rain. It’s a scary thought but it’s also kind of wonderful. All these little parts of the machine constantly working, making sure that you end up exactly where you’re supposed to be, exactly when you’re supposed to be there. The right place at the right time.”

Good stuff, that.

Leaving the comfort zone.

I think it’s time for a small reflection.

I’ve been abroad for a little more than two months now, and nothing has turned out how I imagined it would. Never in a million years did I think I’d end up in Asia. And that’s ok. Because I’m teaching English in a foreign country, and that’s what I wanted.

For the most part, things have been amazing. I’m relishing the excitement and adrenaline I feel just walking down the street in Taipei. There’s always something to look at, always something new to taste or smell. Especially smell — stinky tofu is rampant here.

The night markets are without a doubt my favorite thing so far in this country. I’ve only been to a couple, but it always seems to be an experience. There is one a 2-minute walk from where I’m living, the Raohe St. Night Market, and I love wandering through it. It’s crowded and sweaty, and I constantly get jostled by the crowd, but there’s just something about it that’s addicting. I have to put pictures up next time. Also, all the people there are so friendly. I’ve made friends. Vendors smile and wave, and shout “Hello!” Ordering food is always an experience, although I’ve yet to actually act out what I want to eat. I usually just point at what I know.

Maybe I’ll get brave soon.

I also started teaching, as of October 3. It’s pretty intense, and I’m not going to lie, there have been some crappy days in there already. And getting there is an ordeal, as it’s a bus ride that takes anywhere from 45 minutes to an hour.

But there have also been some great moments in there as well.

Like when my yo-yo class (2-3 year olds) finally recognized me and spent the whole of a class hugging on me. Or playing games with my level 1 class. Hearing the kiddos say “Hi, Teacher Katie!”

There’s not a lot I can say right now, mostly because I just finished my first week.

Teaching is hard. Really hard. It’s not instinctive yet, and I’m certainly not a natural. I’m not sure what I expected, but this is definitely a challenge. A few times I’ve had to seriously talk myself out of running away. Not because I don’t like Taipei, but mostly because I’ve leaped so very far out of my comfort zone. (What happened to the girl who could barely speak in front of strangers?)

But every time I consider it I remind myself of this time a year ago: When I was so desperately unhappy that I would have taken any means of escape offered to me.

And it sort of makes me wonder how chucking this opportunity has even crossed my mind.

I know that if I gave up on teaching I wouldn’t be able to deal with going home. I can’t, and refuse to, be that person again. And this time, my resolve is so much stronger.

I don’t know what the next year of teaching will be like, but I’m ready to take on the experience. I think overall it will be good for me.