Costco and Driving Skill

Costco, that bastion of American consumerism, with it bulk shopping and large carts to accommodate it, has finally reached Chiayi. The mega-store’s newest branch opened just last week to huge crowds and manic shopping. For a country whose staple crop is rice, it was amazing seeing a nearly empty bagel table at mid-afternoon on Sunday. Muffins were flying off the shelves. Fifty people in line waiting for a roasted chicken. However, the sad part is that this palace of produce and products is now the big attraction of our fair city.

Unlike our bigger neighbors to the south and north, Chiayi lacks intellectual stimulus. The Kaohsiung Museum of Art has established itself as the southern purveyor of whatever the Taipei museums exhibit, while the Taiwan Museum of Fine Art in Taichung services central Taiwan. Both cities also boast small artist areas as well science museums worth a day-trip. Tainan has the National Literature Museum, along with Fort Zeelandia and other relics from when the Dutch tried to set up a colony.

Chiayi does have a museum, the first floor of which details earthquakes that have devastated the city and the country. The second floor has fossils of seashells and some stuffed animals, while the third floor often exhibits the local talent, including preschoolers. If you take the time to read the names and titles of the works of art, you could probably go through the whole museum in an hour, but since there were no translations, I did it in twenty-five minutes.

The now defunct prison has been designated as a historical building due to its unique Japanese-era architecture, as have some refurbished buildings connected with the Alishan Railway, which as of now doesn’t go to Alishan. At the Culture Center, there is a room full of Koji pottery, a style unique to Chiayi, as well as statues of Chiayi monkeys, made famous by an artist decades ago and copied by many. Then there is the 2-28 Memorial Hall, which commemorates those who died during the White Terror, though the pictures of a famous murdered artist and other Taiwanese leaders make for a depressing walk-through.

Costco, on the other hand, can offer one a first-hand look at a part of Taiwanese culture that frustrates and flabbergasts most foreigners, albeit at a slower and much safer speed. The way Taiwanese operate the carts throughout the store reflects their driving habits in many facets. At the entrance, it’s similar to the (c)rush of cars heading to popular sites during a holiday weekend. Carts attempt to merge into a stream of tailgating traffic that flows with a small hint of organization and hardly any respect for lane markers. One needs to be somewhat forceful in letting others know of one’s intention to enter the current. When a shopper turns off into a side aisle, there is a dash to fill the void created. Occasionally, a daring, usually younger driver will attempt to circumnavigate the crowd by quickly entering a space in the oncoming traffic lane, only to find his way block and the need to reenter the tide.

The way the store sets up the taste-testing stands imitates how farmers in blue trucks full of produce set up shop on a busy corner. What follows are shoppers stopping to enjoy a piece of ham or a paper shot glass of clam chowder oblivious of others trying to proceed down an aisle. The same occurs when friends see each other and instead of simply waving and continuing on, they linger in the middle of the way catching up on what the other has done since the last time they met, again unaware of the blockade that they have created until someone (usually me, because the Taiwanese are too timid in such situations) barks out “Duὶbuqĭ. Yào guò qu!”, literally, “Excuse me. Want to pass”. Though I would love to shout, “Could ya move ya party to the side”, it would be lost on the audience and I would get no pleasure from it.

When I first arrived in Taiwan, truck mud flaps, car trunks and scooter taillights would have “Don’t kiss!” written on them. I soon found out that it was not a government program on cutting down teenage pregnancy but a sincere desire of the drivers for some respect from fellow road warriors. This aptly applies to the notion that Taiwanese drivers don’t pay attention to what’s behind them, that they concentrate on what’s in front of the windshield and let those in the rear take care of (fend for?) themselves. If only the same applied at Costco. I have been to the Taichung branch at least a half dozen times and had someone run into the back of my ankles every time. One time, it happened at the entrance of the escalator going up when a schmuck behind me apparently didn’t want to let too much space open up between us. To a certain extent, this lack of focus is understandable, with all the goodies the store has to offer for the eye. Thank goodness Taiwanese highways don’t have so many billboards distracting drivers. Still, I couldn’t believe it when, at the end of my first visit to Costco’s newest emporium, as I was handing the receipt to the receipt checker (How do they do what they do?), a young couple pushed their cart right into my butt. I turned to see him raising a hand, bowing his head and saying “Saurry!” She put on a nervous smile, like most Taiwanese do in uncomfortable circumstances when they think finding the humor in it will alleviate any pain inflicted or embarrassment felt. When I said “Don’t kiss” and pointed to my buttocks, they giggled, as if they got the joke. I didn’t smile back.