welcome back to the mess

A 70-year-old just fell to the floor. Everyone came to her and tried to give some help. She appeared weak and a bit disoriented. She was so tired of waiting.
Me too.

We were waiting in line in the early afternoon in the post office.
We, as in ten to twelve people who did not know each other, were very patient because there was nothing we could do but be quite and wait.
Only one representative or officer or clerk or postman (whatever his title was) was providing his detail-oriented service.

I had come over at 10am when I thought the office should have been empty and I should have been the only smiley customer. But there were 5 people waiting. I was like "Oh, there are more people than I thought who did not need to work in a Tuesday morning." I did not work because I had just deplaned (what a cute word invented by stewardesses) and because my brain could not work properly after the 36-hour trip.
At 10am, I had given it up and went home to take a shower and to check email.
At 1:30pm, I visited the post office again. Although there were obviously twice more people in line than 3 and half hours ago, I decided to wait. I could not do anything anyway. Might as well wait in line and make some day dreams.

The old lady was behind me. Including her and me, the double-digit number of waiting people in the entire post office did not make sounds except for the postman's "next please". This background white noise was so sleep-promoting.
After 40 minutes, it was my turn. I came to pick up my mail for the past two weeks. As the postman disappeared to the back for getting my mail, the old lady could not stand anymore. She was leaning against a dividing pole (the thing that sticks out stretching belts), but the pole was not made for it. She fell. And the office felt alive finally: "Oh, help her!" "Are you okay?" "Someone call 911!" "Where is the guy? We need help here!" "Give her a chair!"
I remained my position in front of the counter and watched. I did not feel like participating in this whole thing. It felt like a dream. I could have closed my eyes and waken up tomorrow night.
I wanted to laugh.
To laugh at my leaving the super efficient Taiwan system for this mess.

After the robbery in January, I called the International Office for help. An important visa document (so-called OPT) was lost. I was suggested to apply for J-1 (status for a visiting scholar) in Taiwan instead of in the US. Because in the US, it would take about 6 months, and in Taiwan it would take about 6 days according to a website providing average processing days around the world for a US visa.
It took me one day.
The waiting line was long (about an hour) but very well organized. Everyone could sit before seeing the interviewer.
Afterwards, I applied for a visa for entering Canada multiple times. It also took me one day only.

Every time I returned to Taipei, the first thing I did was to re-activate my health insurance, which is provided by the government. The administrative system of Da-an District was by far my favorite. All staff were super nice and friendly. The hardware was clean, neat, bright, and modern. After taking the number tag, I could sit comfortably in a couch, sipping tea (free), reading newspapers, and being apologized "Sorry that you have to wait a bit."

Here in the US, no one likes the inefficient system but everyone is used to it and is conditioned to the helplessness. Even when the lady could not stand it anymore, no one was brave enough to shout that the cause of her breaking down was the long long line which was the result of the inefficient service.

In a movie or a book, I don't remember, the character said "Never piss off people in the airport." Why? They could be upset and so upset that they could not see your bad mood and could cause more difficulty in your trip.
This is definitely not the case in Taiwan. Costumers are gods.
When my flight was delayed for 5 hours in Taipei, they spontaneously immediately provided some compensation.
Because it was delayed, I could not catch the original connecting flight from San Francisco to Newark. I waited for 8 more hours. Finally I arrived in Newark. While waiting for Kristin to pick me up, I overheard a guy who was very upset on the phone, saying the airline mis-scheduled his itinerary and he was stuck in Newark. The person on the other side of the phone obviously did not help him at all. He made two calls. He was put on hold. He was told "Sorry, we cannot help you."
I was reading "American Gods" at the time when he was trying hard not to curse to the phone, and I sighed in my head "One of the American Gods is the costumer service."