The Accidental Foreigner
By: Julia C. Tsai
Tags: Covid Diaries, Quarantine, Taiwan

The Accidental Foreigner

Travelers from overseas must quarantine for a total of fourteen days, but the day you land is considered Day Zero, and I landed at 6 am in the morning, so I technically quarantined for fifteen days. Travelers must disclose their home address to Quarantine Customs, if they quarantine at home, or the name of their “quarantine hotel.” Since I had yet to establish a home in Taiwan, and I didn’t want to endanger my elderly relatives, I booked a quarantine hotel that was featured on YouTube (this might be the one moment I appreciated Big Tech collecting data from me.)

From the minute I landed at Taoyuan International Airport, I was branded as an “other” as I was ushered into a “quarantine taxi.” When I arrived at the quarantine hotel, the driver wasn’t allowed to drop me off at the lobby and instead dropped me off at the delivery bay. In order to shield the other hotel guests from “Typhoid Julia,” I was sent up to my room in a tarp-lined freight elevator. Finally, once I was in my room, the check-in personnel told me I wouldn’t be given a room key, because why would I need a key if I could never leave my room?

I’m grateful that the quarantine room I stayed in was modern, clean, and comfortable. Meals were brought up to my room three times a day, plus tea during “tea time,” and trash was thrown out every day provided I placed it outside of my room at the appointed time. The room itself was about 300 square feet big, with a large window peering out onto a large expanse of green space I didn’t know still existed in Taipei.

There was a dedicated HDMI port in a built-in console on the desk, an electric kettle for me to brew my coffee, and a king sized bed with fluffy pillows. As with all other aspects of the service industry in Taiwan, all requests were handled via LINE messaging, including my “check-in process” complete with crooked photos of signed forms and my passport.

As soon as 10:00 am rolled around on my Day Zero, I received a telephone call from the Taiwan Centers for Disease Control (CDC) through the mobile phone number I provided to Quarantine Customs. Dedicated phone operators at the CDC are assigned to a batch of quarantined individuals, and each handle their caseload differently. Some are able to converse in English with English-only speaking individuals. Some ask extremely detailed questions about the individuals’ health. Others…can sometimes forget to call — we’re only human. The operator assigned to me always sounded like he was in a rush. He would only ask me one question — “Are you in good health?” — and once I said the magic “Yes,” he hung up. Did I mention that it is imperative that the individual picks up the telephone? Did I mention I’m a true Xennial and that I hate picking up the phone? Not picking up the telephone results in a visit by the local police to make sure you’re either 1) not dead or 2) not breaking the rules. Since I wasn’t in any rush to be around people, I dutifully picked up the phone, even though I dreaded it every time.

On Day Four, my operator surprised me by speaking more than one sentence, this time to tell me that he dropped off a package for me.

It was my “quarantine care package!” The care package included wafer cookies, crackers, instant noodles, trash bags, and surgical masks. Taiwan can help! Like the operators, the care packages vary depending on where the individual is located and what foodstuffs are on hand. Though this package indeed looked good, others had way tastier snacks.

On top of the daily telephone calls, there were daily texts from the Taiwan CDC as well, asking the exact same question as my phone operator would. I’m not sure why I needed to be asked twice everyday at around the same time (perhaps to check for inconsistencies in my responses?), but I chalked it up to Taiwan taking COVID seriously.

Other than fielding daily texts and telephone calls, I slept a lot. Followed along to YouTube workout videos a lot. Watched Netflix a lot. And stole hearts as Phantom Thief in Persona 5 Royal a lot.

For those in the know, where’s Ryuji?! | Credit: P-Studio/Atlus

I cannot think of a better game to play during quarantine, primarily because the game itself is long (about 100+ hours to complete) and for whatever reason does not have an autosave feature (why?????) If I had been given this game pre-COVID, the time commitment would have scared me off or I would progress very little in the game.

P5R itself was enjoyable. I liked the theme of everyone throwing off their personas to become their authentic selves. I liked the art direction, especially since games now try to be as graphically realistic as possible, and P5R ran the complete opposite way. I liked being able to “walk down” the streets of some of my favorite parts of Tokyo to whet my wanderlust. But when I came upon Hour 80, I honestly just wanted the game to end. With the way the story is told, I understand why there is no post-game content in P5R, but my personal opinion is that a complete story should last no more than 60 hours to tell (which is already a stretch), and the rest is post-game icing-on-the-cake. I also found it bizarre that there were full-on “waifu wars” over the romantic prospects in the game, reminding me again that gaming is still dominated by boys and men. I fully admit that my favorite character is Morgana just because he’s an adorable cat.