It was an evening of our last day in Kaohsiung, and we were visiting the Dragon and Tiger Pagodas. Temples in Taiwan usually have dragons painted by one set of doors to indicate that those doors are used to enter the temple, and tigers by another set of doors, which are used to exit. This temple took it one step further, building a giant dragon with an open mouth in front of one of the pagodas, with the entrance inside the dragon’s mouth. The roaring tiger in front of the other pagoda was used as an exit. The exit was also in the tiger’s mouth, and not as I initially presumed… on the other side.
We watched the sunset from the top floor of the dragon pagoda, enjoying the detailed carvings on the windowsills and walls, and the glitter of the fading sunlight bouncing off the lake and illuminating the ornamental tigers and dragons. Both temples were built on water, with a low zig-zagging pedestrian bridge leading to the entrance and the exit. Not sure if this logic applies here, but usually zig-zagging bridges in Chinese mythology are used as a way to “confuse spirits” who apparently can only move in a straight line, thus allowing someone who is being chased by bad spirits to make a hasty escape. It was while we were slowly strolling one of these bridges, on our way out of the pagodas, that both of our phones chimed simultaneously.
In fact, all phones chimed. We were surrounded by Taiwanese families and other tourists, and most people reached into their pockets to check what was going on.
“Presidential Alert!” the message read, followed by text in Mandarin and then in English, “Felt earthquake alert. Keep calm and seek cover nearby.”
I shrugged. There was clearly no earthquake, and no one else around us seemed panicked.
“The earthquake is probably on the other part of the island, and they sent out mass alerts to everyone,” I said, and Victor nodded.
And then the bridge started shaking.
We have never experienced an earthquake before. I had no idea what to do, how long this would last, how powerful it would be, or what “seek cover” in the text message meant. But I did know that standing on a bridge in the middle of an earthquake was not smart.
We ran. We zig-zagged down that bridge as if evil spirits were chasing after us. Out of breath, we stopped only when we felt solid ground under our feet. Except the ground wasn’t completely solid – it was shaking ever so slightly, vibrating less and less, but moving nevertheless. At this point, I realized that literally no one else paid any attention to the very obvious earthquake. Families were still strolling the bridge, as calm as ever, a couple was snuggling on a bench nearby, children were riding their bikes and laughing. It was simply another small earthquake for Taiwan, hardly anything to worry about. For us, it was literally an earth-shaking experience.
We sat down on a bench and tried to figure out what to do. Was the earthquake fully over? Did we need to worry about aftershocks? CNN reported that the earthquake was 6.1 on the Richter scale and originated off the coast of Taitung, at least 350 km from where we were at the moment.
As we were processing just how powerful a 6.1 earthquake is, Victor exclaimed, “Well that was lucky! We are heading to Taitung tomorrow! Can you imagine how scary that earthquake would have been if we were there, almost at the epicenter?”
I don’t remember what I answered him in the moment, but this question was answered only a few days later. After visiting Taitung, we arrived at Hualien and checked into our Airbnb, a room on the second floor of an older, traditional house. Our host, an elderly Taiwanese man with passable English, loved chatting with us, but had surprisingly little to say about the earthquake that hit his city just a few days prior. He agreed that it happened and then moved the conversation on to the nearby night market and all the delicacies we absolutely must sample while we were in town. After a full day of exploring and hiking, we went to bed around 10:30 pm, and I immediately fell asleep, while Victor was still planning our next day’s activities.
I was woken up by Victor shaking me and repeating, “Earthquake! Earthquake!” I had no idea why he was saying this. My first conscious thought was – we are in a train. Yes, we are in a sleeper train, and that explains why my bed is gently shaking. Then, as the realization that we were sleeping in a room settled in, I thought – Victor is talking in his sleep. He is shaking me and talking nonsense in his sleep.
“There is no earthquake.” I said, “That was a few days ago. Go to sleep!” Then, as I fully woke up, I saw that Victor was not shaking me or talking in his sleep. He was on the other side of the bed, sitting up, fully awake. And the bed was moving. Everything was moving: the walls, the floor, the furniture.
“Earthquake…” I said, and as if that was the magic keyword, everything stopped moving. I laid there for a few moments, unable to comprehend if this was real or a dream. I reached over to my phone and saw the “Presidential Alert!” text message. We had just lived through another earthquake, a 7.0 on the Richter scale, and we were only 100 km or so from the epicenter.
We looked around, but nothing was broken. Well, nothing physical. My confidence in our safety and ability to fall into peaceful sleep was shattered into the smallest pieces. I laid awake for quite a while, waiting for aftershocks that never came, worried about the risk of tsunami, wondering how much damage this earthquake caused on the island. In the morning, the news reported that there was no damage and no casualties, as the earthquake did not hit the island directly and once again originated off the coast.
Our host just shrugged, “Yes, earthquake…” when we came down the stairs, wide-eyed and disheveled, and immediately moved on to telling us about various breakfast options in the area. Clearly, the locals are not easily moved by earthquakes. (Yes, this is a bad pun, but I am sticking by it.)
And still, Taiwan was not quite done with us.
