Typhoon - Again!

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This weekend I experienced my third typhoon since moving to Taiwan. Typhoon Krosa was by far the fiercest. Rain started falling midday on Friday and by evening huge gusts of wind rattled the windows and balcony doors. Unfortunately, the typhoon hit on a Saturday, so no days off. Saturday morning the apartment was under siege from water leaking in from under the door, the sills of the windows, and several other areas and then pooling in the middle of the floor. The wind was howling outside and constant streams of rain came down inundating the city. And then we looked out the window and noticed the bacon-and-egga across the street was open for business, sweet. Throwing on our raincoats (umbrellas are very pointless during a typhoon) we dash across the street to grab some breakfast. As I indulge my appetite for ice coffee and a breakfast sandwich, I can’t help but be impressed by the Asian work ethic. Even in the worst weather you can usually find some family owned businesses open, as well as all 7/11s and grocery stores, which is good since we usually don’t keep food in the house.

Mopping up the water becomes a constant chore as the typhoon rages on. I look online to see statistics on the storm, the winds are now blowing at 65 miles per hour. Chad is outside watching the rain from the balcony. “The snowman’s coming down,” he shouts, and I run outside to see. I wear an ankle length raincoat with a hood, so feel quite dry as I stand on the balcony in the rain. There is no lightening, just rain and wind. The giant snowman that sits on top of the school where he works has developed a precarious list. I also observe fallen branches on the road and a palm tree that is now leaning on a power line. Then I see the blue lid to our recycling container sitting on the porch of an apartment across the street – woops!

The giant foam snowman from the school falls, breaking into pieces on the street. Chad’s boss phones within minutes, after hearing the news from the owner of the “West 15” restaurant across the street, which for some reason is also open. We are assigned the task of moving the snowman over the fence and into school property. Again we venture outside in our rain gear, this time to examine the best way to move the remains of the snowman. It was an awkward task, which the people inside the “West 15” restaurant enjoyed watching, but finally the now very broken snowman was in pieces inside the gated school. As we walk by the restaurant, we talk to the owner for a few minutes. She says her brother used to live in our apartment, and asks if it still leaks. :P