Those readers who are familiar with my past (and somewhat erratic….I admit it!) blogging will remember that I have been through the house hunting ordeal sufficient number of times for it to justify sending shivers down my spine! But as I was headed to India for three weeks, and most of my friend circle seemed to have split up and returned to India – for better or for worse, it did seem pointless to keep on renting the house where I was staying.

Still, all practical and pecuniary considerations put aside, the jolt of realization did hit me when I returned to Brisbane – that I was actually homeless. (I know this sounds rather dramatic, but believe me, it can be a very displacing feeling to live out of a suitcase in a temporary stint at your uncle’s home) And so was heralded the quest for yet another place to call home.

This time around, I did not want to rent a whole house. I just wanted to rent a room in house, preferably furnished – so I was not burdened with the need for furniture and furnishings. And since we were listing criteria here, I decided to be ambitious and also demand an inner city suburb, close to the river and within earshot of public transport  – day and night. Did I also mention that it had to be affordable (to be understood as dirt cheap in broke-student cryptic!), quiet, clean and homely? Most seasoned Brisbane-ites would gaffe (and choke) at my list of demands… but hey, I was stepping out of my comfort zone here – living with absolute strangers of varied ethnicity is not really easy; I could cut myself some slack!

And so the saga started all over again. Trawling through real estate classifieds and websites, taking notes, making lists, calling people, visiting shabby homes and sinking deeper and deeper into depression at the conviction that I will never find a place to call home this time around.

Finally, one afternoon, I saw an ad for a house in a VERY trendy riverside inner city suburb for a fully furnished room with utilities at a throwaway price. Mentally I struck it off thinking it was either a little, scratchy place or a scam. But then, I guess hoping for a miracle, I decided to take a peek.

And so, three days later, my cousin, aunt and I lugged the last of my treasure trove of books, boxes and bags into the lovely double bed room of the house I was to now share with the quaint little Taiwanese family. I had my misgivings – we Indians have NOTHING in common with most South-East Asians…language, cuisine, culture… it was all poles apart. But strangely, this move has proved to be the best thing that happened to me since I got back from India (or before I left as well, in all honesty!) Not only is the house airy, clean, quiet and welcoming – it is also a very enriching experience.

The Taiwanese, unlike most Mainland Chinese are a very economically wealthy group of people. My landlady owns the house we live in (usually most shared houses are leased by one person and sub let to tenants in individual rooms). Her husband is a wealthy manufacturer in Taipei with his own, thriving business of plastics and electronics. Her son and his wife live in Australia, for the sole purpose of becoming Australian citizens. Both are engineers – she mechanical, he chemical – which is evidenced in all the D-I-Y projects that are in varying states of completion around the house.

Everyone speaks different degrees of fractured English – in their quaint, high-pitched sing-song voices. Since my name was a bit of a tongue twister for the landlady, she has cheerfully resorted to calling me ‘Sushi’ – much to our obvious amusement.

Life is centered around their fifteen-month-old baby daughter – Hwa Hwa, six year old dog – Chai Chai and the kitchen. Everyday, delightful meals are made with complex cooking methods like roasting, baking, steaming and poaching, served onto a wooden table and shared, to the white noise of a television in the background.

I have learnt much about the Taiwanese way in these three weeks. Housework is shared by all members of the house without any obvious sex or status oriented preference. So the daughter-in-law might cook up a storm, while the husband baby sits and the mother-in-law does the dishes… or in any other order. Television is central to a Taiwanese lifestyle as a source of background chatter. And it is customary to cook for family and friends.

So every evening when I got home, Irene (the daughter-in-law) would wait for me with cut fruits, tapioca cakes, banana cakes, steamed pork buns and even on occasion, a pizza or donut! One evening I had to politely decline her traditional pork cakes, explaining that I was vegetarian on two days of the week. I expected this to be met with puzzled looks as, the concept of vegetarianism is very alien to most Asians.

But not the Taiwanese. Like the Hindus, a very large part of the Taiwanese population are Buddhists and vegetarian at that. Irene explained to me, that it was common to see vegetarian restaurants in every suburb of Taipei. Rather than being surprised by it, she merely inquired on what days I was vegetarian. Now on Tuesdays and Thursdays, she keeps aside some pots and pans for me, refraining from making any stocks or meats in them. I also get offered tofu, peanut and sesame drinks and vegetables on these days.

After some conversation, I learnt that Irene and her husband had traveled to India on a holiday, and fallen in love with Indian food. He specifically was enthralled by the ‘naan’ and tandoori chicken. So one day, I decided to visit the Indian grocery store and pick up some ingredients to cook for them. It was amusing to watch the fascination with which the entire family passed around packets of cardamom, turmeric and cloves, peering at them and discussing them with enthusiasm. I made them a lamb curry, which they enjoyed heartily – eating daintily out of their tiny rice bowls with chopsticks!

They have requested a prawn curry, when I next have the time to cook – in the interim, I am happy to have found a place to call home!

Signed – Shruti ‘Sushi’ Sain