the Taipei/Taroko/Hot springs chronicles

Before you start reading, please read this post first explaining why I am going back and posting entries about a trip I took 2 months go. :)

Jan 7, 2011
I made it! The flight actually went pretty smoothly. It was very cold on the plane and for some reason I didn't have a complimentary blanket during the first leg, so it was hard for me to sleep. After my 5 AM layover in Alaska though (that was a really bizarre experience. they have all these stuffed dead animals hanging around, like mountain goats and deer with huge antlers) I asked for a blanket and then passed out for about 5 hours. I then watched The Social Network (pretty good, actually, I recommend it) and a teen movie that's loosely based on The Scarlet Letter (also surprisingly good). 

I felt like I got good rest on the plane and the food was decent too, so I was in okay shape by the time we arrived at 7 AM local time. I grabbed my luggage, got through customs with no problem, and my aunt and cousin were waiting for me! They had actually been there for an hour as I deplaned and went through all the processing. The first thing my aunt did was take a picture of me. :) She said I hadn't changed at all. She and my cousin looked much the same as I remembered them. They actually don't speak English as well as my uncle and cousin Tom, so it was slow going trying to communicate at first, but I think we're starting to settle in.

We took an hour long bus ride into the city, and as we were driving on the highway, past all the buildings and mountains, and then into the downtown with the scooters, taxis, streetside food stands, terrible driving, signs and stores everywhere, all my Asia memories came flooding back. It did feel like a homecoming. There were memories from my first trip to Taiwan that came back to me that I haven't thought about in years. I felt thrilled - I made it! I'm actually here! This is actually real! Walking up to my uncle's apartment, where I stayed for so long the first time I was here, was a surreal and wonderful moment.

I had breakfast at a food stand with my aunt and cousin and have been chilling in their apartment ever since, watching Taiwanese TV and finalizing some details of my travels. I feel like my body is going to crash in an hour or so but I wanted to fulfill my promise about internet access and send you an email first.   

Jan 9, 2011 (AKA the Glasses experience)

Today I went to get new glasses! It was actually less scary than I thought it would be, and it was much easier to communicate with the people in the store than it was with the haircutters. My uncle loves taking pictures, and he basically took a photo of me with every pair of glasses I tried on, with some hilarious results. I really wanted square frame cool/hipstery glasses and there are definitely some I tried on that looked pretty wild (ex a white pair and a bright red pair). I've never worn square glasses and it took me awhile to get used to how they look on my face. In the end I settled on a pair that are dark purple (almost black) with beveled sides (what are those called? ear hooks?) and even some glitter on the inside. They're definitely the most glitzy glasses I've ever had but I like them a lot. :) I then got my eyes checked by a nice guy who was patient with my 30 second translation delay. The Taiwanese eye exam includes tests I've never seen before, and it was also the first eye exam I had where I didn't have to read rows of letters.

My aunt is a regular at the store and brought Casey there, so she kept playing the, "look, I bring you American customers!" card. I got a nice discount, and the whole thing, including the eye exam, the lens, and the frame will cost me about $115 USD. Not bad!

After that we took the very nice and high tech metro to Chiang Kai Shek's house to do something touristy for the rest of our day. There's a limited amount of tickets to tour the actual house and they had sold out by the time we arrived, so we walked around the gardens instead. With two shutterbugs there (my uncle, and my cousin who has a fancy Canon with a lens) it took quite awhile, but it was really beautiful and the weather was nice.

My cool new Taiwanese hipster glasses.

At the gardens of the Chiang Kai Shek residence with my aunt.

 Jan 12, 2011 (Taroko)

 Today we went to Taroko Gorge, and I am SO glad we included it in our Taiwan itinerary. It was absolutely breathtaking. Sheer cliff faces, a turquoise-colored river, caves and tunnels and Buddhist temples rising out of the mist - it was incredible. If I'm able to get some of my pictures uploaded I will definitely send you some. And one of my relatives took a day off from work just so she could drive us there and serve as our personal tour guide. It was ridiculously generous of her and she really made our day special. We spent about 4 hours there and then my cousin took us back to the city to get something to eat, and then dropped us off at the train station. Jason and I proceeded to conk out until we arrived here to Zhi Ben, where we had a female taxi driver (!) take us to the resort. 

With my cousin YiQing at Taroko Gorge.

Buddha statue at Taroko.

 Jan 14, 2011
I did get in another soak in the hot springs last night after dinner. Jason and I then watched "Drumline" on TV and some random National Geographic programs before going to sleep. This morning we hiked partway up the trail behind the hotel to enjoy the views and the weather. The clouds finally cleared this morning and we were able to see blue sky. It was also t-shirt weather, which felt wonderful! :) We caught a 11 AM train today down to Zuoying (a Southern coastal town), where we then transferred to the high speed rail. It was a lot more expensive than we anticipated (almost $45 USD, which is a lot of money here!) but we were able to take the express high speed rail (I didn't even know there was such a thing). It took us only 1.5 hours to get back to Taipei! It would've taken us 6-8 hours on a regular train. It was incredibly fast and smooth, high tech, luxurious, and a lot of fun. I wish the US would invest more in an up to date and efficient rail system, because it's definitely the way to go. I was able to travel around the entire country in 3 days by train!

Hot springs at Rainbow Resort (in background)

My hot springs outfit. Swim cap required.

Hiking trail

On the high speed rail!

transitions/honoring my travels

It was difficult to come off of my trip to San Francisco and readjust to being a full-time (unemployed) adult in DC. I suddenly had all this time on my hands to just be with myself, and live with my insecurities and neuroses. And oh the neuroses! The inner tape that constantly plays messages about how I'm not doing enough, but I'm also during too much, and crap my checks got lost in the mail, and I haven't sent out enough job applications, and my room is a mess, etc etc. But I think during these transition times some wailing and protesting from myself is to be expected, and I am trying to be compassionate and patient with myself. There are a lot of joys to be found in alone-ness too - sleeping in, enjoying leisurely breakfasts with hot tea and the paper, taking brisk walks to enjoy the sunshine when I feel like it, reading, practicing mindfulness. I've also spent the last week or so enjoying a visit with Kaitlyn, consulting for a few hours at my old office, going climbing, enjoying the UNC victory over Duke, honoring the memory of a friend, working with a grassroots community organization, and finally getting a VA license. 

On Monday I heard back from an organization that I thought was going to be a long shot, and ended up getting an interview offer! I went through a pretty serious 2 hour long interview yesterday and was asked for my references today, so hopefully I'll get some good news. I felt calm and confident while I was there, and I met some great people who are doing work I believe in, and I feel excited and good about the experience. There's definitely a part of me that wants to play it down because it's still not a sure thing and I don't want to be disappointed, but for now I'm going to allow myself to be excited, and get my hopes up. :) Now that there's a chance that I'll be employed again soon, I wanted to take some time to revisit and process my trip to Asia. I realized today that part of me hasn't really wanted to upload all my photos and post my travel entries in this blog because it means having to really say goodbye to the experience, and to acknowledge that they are firmly in the past. It means I have to confront that all I have of that time now are the photos, and my words, and my memories, which are rich and vivid and full, but only an approximation of what it was like to actually be in Taipei, or at the ruins of Ayutthaya, or in the clear blue waters of Koh Chang.  But it's important to remember the experiences again, honor them, thank them for what they taught me, and fully dedicate myself to being here now. 

So I will start posting edited versions of the emails I sent to Megan telling her about the day-to-day experience of my trip. This is mostly for my benefit so I have a centralized place for all of them - you're definitely not obligated to read them (or really any of this!) if you don't want to. But if you're interested in the nitty gritty "here's what I saw and ate and felt and thought" of my trip, this is the best way of reliving it with me. :) You can also supplement the experience by checking out all my pictures on Flickr. Here we go.  

Jason and I at Shi Lin Night Market in Taipei

My aunt and uncle outside of their neighborhood metro stop.

Buddha statues at a temple in Ayutthaya.

Cambodian style temple in Ayutthaya.

Enjoying a margarita on the beach in Koh Chang.

compassion and oppression

I have been in DC since Feb 7, reintegrating by dropping by my old office, attending Hill briefings, seeing friends, getting involved with community organizing, and facilitating board retreats. I've also fixed a leaky toilet, gone to the dentist, and continued my travel adventures by going to San Francisco for 6 days with my partner. My days have been full, and my doubts about whether or not I still belong here even when I'm not officially employed have faded. As I'm fond of telling people these days, even though I'm "organizationally unaffiliated" (read: unemployed) I am certainly still involved with a LOT of organizations. I'm working and not getting paid. I have a purpose for being here, and I feel much more relaxed here now than I did before I left.


I am trying to bring the sense of presence and joy I felt in Taiwan to my life here in DC. Part of how I stay grounded and fully embodied here is by attending People of Color Sangha at the Insight Meditation Community of Washington.  "Sangha" is a Buddhist term that in the West commonly refers to a Buddhist community. I think of it as a meditation group. Every month the POC sangha meets for 2.5 hours and incorporates sitting meditation, a brief lecture called a "dharma", and group discussion. Today was my third time participating in sangha, and I am immensely grateful that I went. The meditations that I do at sangha are deep, and I feel fully present for those precious 30 minutes. I emerge from them feeling connected and grounded and cleansed, or as the Buddhists would say, "awake". The discussions are also interesting and thought-provoking, and the one today was particularly powerful. 


It was based on Larry Yang's Precepts for Directing the Mind Towards Diversity. In short, these precepts call on us to refrain from forcing others to adopt our belief systems, to refrain from denying or invalidating other people's experiences, to not diminish the worth or happiness of any other human being, to not exclude or isolate others, to be aware of privilege, and to not participate in systems of oppression. Among others. A tall order, but it's meant to aspirational. Guidelines, if you will. 


In all seriousness, as I heard these precepts being read out loud, I felt a very strong resistance. Here I was sitting in a room with all people of color, most of whom are black, most of whom are women, and many of whom self-identify as LGBTQ. Among us we represent some of the most marginalized and oppressed identity groups in the U.S. One after another people responded to these precepts with stories of painful, hurtful encounters they've had with racism. Others talked about how important it is to be open-minded, to accept ourselves so we can fully accept others, which I also found myself resisting. I felt my anger and impatience to speak boiling over, and instead of mindfully pausing after another woman's particularly painful story about a racist incident, I hurried to speak:

"Why should we strive so hard to love and understand and be open to those who hurt us? There are so many people who will not refrain from forcing us to adopt their belief systems, or regularly exclude, isolate, and treat people as inferior. Opening ourselves up to them means we're going to get hurt. Maybe it's okay to isolate ourselves with people from similar backgrounds, if that means we're going to be safe. Why should we, who have to carry so much weight, and deal with so much B.S., have to listen and try to understand worldviews that invalidate our humanity and existence? Why do we have to be mindful and open when they will not do the same for us? We, as individuals, can be compassionate and loving all we want, but that doesn't change the systems out there that have and will continue to hurt us."


I was relieved when my angry, defensive, decidedly NON-compassionate outburst was met with affirmation and validation from the rest of the group. It made me feel safe to know that other people felt and understood my frustration, that though many of us work in social justice and believe fundamentally in the inherent worth of all human beings, we have also been hurt by a lot of people. And that makes us angry.


I appreciated in particular the words of a black woman elder who was not afraid to talk about her movement work against white supremacy, and her own anger and exhaustion. But she also talked about what it means to see white folks as not just the "enemy" but as human beings. As the conversation went on, several themes came up. The vulnerability and mindfulness it takes to not immediately react from a place of hurt and defensiveness. How communities of faith like IMCW that are meant to be welcoming and inclusive often exclude and isolate people of color. How hard it can be honest about race with white people who believe so fervently in diversity and that they are being good people. The fiercely compassionate and radical act of claiming and loving ourselves, asserting that we belong. Not asking permission to belong or to be recognized as full human beings.


I left feeling seen and heard and loved, and am grateful for the sense of belonging I felt in the space. But the discussion we had has stayed with me, leaving my heart full and my head spinning and pushing me to do this midnight blogging. Reading the precepts again, one of them sticks out to me:


"Aware of the suffering caused to myself and others by fear and anger during conflict or disagreement, I undertake the training to refrain from reacting defensively, using harmful speech because I feel injured, or using language or cognitive argument to justify my sense of rightness. I commit to communicate and express myself mindfully, speaking truthfully from my heart with patience and compassion. I commit to practice genuine and deep listening to all sides of a dispute, and to remain in contact with my highest intentions of recognizing Buddha nature within all beings."

This quote really strikes me now because of how much fear and anger I felt when I was giving my outburst, and how much I see of it now when I read over my words. Was I reacting defensively? Check. Using harmful speech because I felt injured? Check. Using language or cognitive argument to justify my sense of rightness? Check. In fact, that's kind of my default response to any sort of experience of oppression, whether on the personal level (i.e. racist or sexist comment) or systematic level (i.e. the Tea Party taking over the House). It's not wrong or bad - it's a way of coping and surviving. But where is all that fear and anger coming from?


There's the fear of not being heard. The anger of people invalidating my experiences. The fear of isolation, of not being accepted. Of not being loved. I want to justify my rightness because I want to justify my truth, and my existence. I don't want to be erased or dismissed. I interpret agreeing with and validating my political beliefs and values as validating me. But I am starting to understand that maybe my sense of self doesn't need to be so threatened by conflict or disagreement. No, it's not okay when people or systems try to deny my lived reality, but their denial does not have to result in my own denial and self-minimization. I know my self, and I know my truth. I have dignity and worth as a human being. I have a spirit that cannot be erased. I do not have to convince anyone that I belong, because I am here, and that is enough.

On homecomings

Well everyone, I'm back in the U.S. I apologize for falling off the blogging bandwagon during the last two weeks of my trip. Irregular Internet access and being too tired/busy from traveling are my main excuses, but I did manage to send regular updates about my day to my partner. I plan on editing some of these emails and posting them on my blog so y'all can get a sense of some of the adventures I had, but first a reflection post is in order.

I flew back to the U.S. on Monday, January 31 to Newark, NJ where my maternal grandmother and relatives live. Before I flew back to the U.S. I spent one night in Taipei after my 10 day trip to Thailand. Jason and I arrived in Taipei on Sunday evening and my (paternal) uncle and aunt picked us up from the airport. I was very, very glad to see them, and inordinately relieved to be back in Taipei in general. Although I had an amazing time in Thailand, my identity as a tourist there was inescapable, as were all of the European tourists everywhere and the daily sightings of older European men with very young, beautiful Thai women. (more on being a tourist in Thailand in another post) 

I was so glad to be back in a country where I spoke the language, where there were actual Taiwanese residents surrounding me at all time, where there is no significant expat or Western tourist presence in the city, where there are mountains. I found comfort in narrow streets and buildings pressed on top of each other, instead of the sprawling, flat, expanse of concrete and super-highways of Bangkok. As I walked the streets of Taipei during my last night there, I felt this deep sense of belonging that I feel in very few places in the world.  I used to feel like I belonged to Chapel Hill when I went to school there - I would be sitting in the quad, watching the dappled shadows under the oak trees and the controlled chaos of the class change, or on the front lawn of Weaver Street sitting at one of those weathered green picnic tables with my friends, sharing a bottle of wine, and feel like yes, this is my place. Compared to Chapel Hill or even DC, I have spent very little time in Taipei, and yet I felt that same rush of well-being and bone-deep certainty that I was home. 

Maybe  it was because I had been sick for a couple of days in a foreign country and was just grateful to be somewhere familiar with people around to take care of me. Maybe it was because it was my last night there and I was trying to hold on to every moment. I think mostly it is because Taipei is where my family is. I was so glad to have one last night to sit in my uncle and aunt's living room watching the season finale of Taiwanese Idol with them, just joining in on their quiet family ritual. The things I will remember about Taiwan will be the small, ordinary moments: watching TV with my aunt, climbing on the back of my uncle's scooter as he takes me home every night, sitting in the car as he names each street for me and tells me how they're connected to each other, going to the Carrefour with my aunt. These are the experiences that mark me as part of their family, part of their daily lived realities. 

On Monday we dropped Jason off at the airport because he had an earlier flight than me (my flight didn't leave until 7:30 PM) and then went to get lunch with one of my relatives in Taipei. We then went back to their house where they have their own karaoke machine, and my aunt and uncle started to sing along with their relatives. Since I was sick and coughing violently, I refrained from participating. But as I sat eating cherries and drinking tea and watching my aunt and uncle sing old, classic Chinese songs together, my uncle singing in his tone-deaf, gravelly, good-natured voice that sounds so much like my father's (who I have never heard sing karaoke), I felt like I could stay there forever. I tried to preserve the moment in my memory, how unselfconscious everyone was, how much fun they were having, the feeling of love and good will. 

My uncle and aunt drove me back to the airport and parked the car and sat with me outside of security. I had gotten there much earlier than I needed to and we had about 30 minutes to wait together. We talked about what I was going to do when I got back to DC, and how I could visit again when I eventually went to grad school. My uncle took pictures of me and my aunt, and of me in front of a model of an EVA Airlines airplane. The inevitable departure loomed over us, making us all antsy and subdued. Finally, I got up and said that it was time for me to go. They walked me to the security gate, and I started thanking them and saying my goodbyes, telling them how much their boundless generosity and hospitality meant to me and how they took such exceptional care of me. My uncle looked at me with moist eyes and said, "Of course. You're my father's youngest granddaughter."

My aunt, who I remembered tearing up when I left Taipei the first time, started crying in earnest. I rarely see my relatives of her age or generation cry. My uncle tried to smooth it over and joke through it (as usual) but I hugged her and told her I would see her again, that she needed to come visit me in the U.S., that it would be okay. She wiped her eyes and tried to regain her composure as I turned to hand the guard my passport and plane ticket. As I passed by the guard, I turned one last time to look at my uncle and aunt, and they both smiled and waved at me. I felt an urge to run back to them, or to stay in my spot waving to them, but I turned away and kept walking, and they disappeared out of view.

I have never felt so heartbroken on an airplane, or so reluctant to go back the U.S. I thought of my mom's story about how she cried the entire way to the U.S. the first time she came here, to go to a school where she knew no one, unsure of when she would see her family again. I kept thinking of my aunt's tears, of my uncle's cavalier declarations that he "might not be here" the next time I go to Taiwan, of being ripped from a way of being in the world. I often think of my scattered family and of the consequences of immigration as a blessing - it means I have connections and relationships all over the world, that my family can help each other navigate being in vastly different places, that we have access to diverse experiences and resources. But on the airplane, I could only think of immigration as a tragedy, something caused by the legacies of war and instability, something that created a rift in our family forever. My uncle and aunt and cousins are never going to permanently move to the U.S., and I am never going to build my life in Taipei. We see each other once every 5 years if we are lucky. I grew up without them. Most of the time we don't get a chance to share Lunar New Year together, or family celebrations, or dinners, or just sitting around watching TV. And yet when I see them I feel so welcomed and unconditionally loved and taken care of. They treat me like their long lost youngest child. They don't really know me very well as an adult, or about my work or interests or friends or partner, but they love me.

Because over 30 years ago my father and his brothers and parents decided to make a calculated risk, decided that at least one son needed to be in America in case Taiwan went to war with China, our families are separated for good. I know that it is partly because of this  reality that I am treated so well when I go to Taiwan, and that I am seen as so precious. I grew up with my mom's large extended family in NJ, and when I came back they folded me back into the family life with little fanfare or commentary. There was no one assigned to wait for me at the airport like in Taiwan, just the usual cell phone call and waiting for a ride. The routineness of my return, this kind of "oh, you're back" is precious in its own way - it means that I will keep coming back, that I belong here in the U.S., that I am expected. But it made my departure from Taiwan feel even more sharp and painful.

Now that I have been in NJ for almost a week, and am mostly over both my jet lag and my bronchitis, I feel more settled. I've spoken twice with my uncle and aunt over Skype to wish them a happy Lunar New Year, and have sent them emails and photos. They are busy with their own family obligations, and my aunt sounded okay when I last spoke to her. My mom, some of her brothers and sisters, and my grandma are planning a trip back to Taiwan in October, and my dad may join them (he has not gone to Taiwan in over 20 years), and this news cheered my aunt considerably. I still miss my family and their way of life in Taipei dreadfully, but as I am getting emails from my friends and colleagues in DC and reconnecting with my partner and my best friends, I feel like I am coming back to myself. My life is here, and I'm ready to start living it again   

like riding a bike

It's been almost a week since I've arrived in Taipei, and I've been keeping busy. The glasses appointment went well (much less miscommunication than with the haircutter) and I now have my own Chinese hipster glasses! Jason arrived on Monday and we have been traveilng around Taiwan ever since. We spent Tuesday in Hua Lian, a city on the east coast of Taiwan, and Wednesday at nearby Taroko Gorge, an incredible national park with breathtaking mountains, river, sheer cliffs, tunnels, caves, you name it. Today we are in a hot springs resort in the tiny rural town of Zhiben, another coastal city. We've already enjoyed the hot springs and taken a bike ride around the area, and I'm taking advantage of the internet while Jason is taking his jet lag-induced nap.

Here are some things I've learned about myself and Taiwan so far:
1. My Chinese can improve dramatically if I'm thrown into a complete immersion situation. I still garble up my words, have a translation delay, mess up my tones, use bad grammar, and completely misunderstand people, but I can communicate with hotels and train station managers and taxi drivers and all sorts of people better than I expected. I feel like using it constantly has forced me to be more confident about my language. Before I arrived I was afraid I had forgotten everything I learned from studying abroad in Beijing and from my college Chinese classes, but I've realized that my listening comprehension has improved for good.

2. The Taiwanese people I've encountered so far are really courteous, polite, and helpful. Many of them know upon first interaction that I'm not from Taiwan, but they have not tried to take advantage of me or treated me like I'm wasting their time. Instead, they are patient, accommodating, and very helpful. I've gotten great directions, and taxi drivers who explain the city to me, 7-11 clerks who give me the best tea eggs in the pot, and hotel managers who open a store just so Jason and I can shop there.

3. Family generosity knows no bounds. I have a distant cousin named Yi Qing in Hua Lian who I've never met, but she insisted on treating me and Jason to dinner, and then she took Wednesday off work so she could serve as our personal tour guide to Taroko Gorge. She drove us there, prepared lunch for us (complete with hot tea and coffee and our own mugs), spent 4-5 hours telling us about the gorge and taking us down the trails and to see the major sights, brought us back to the city and treated us to dinner, and then dropped us off at the train station. All of this with no compensation and perhaps no chance for me to ever do the same for her in the United States. I loved getting to know Yi Qing and spending time with her, and am full of gratitude for how she and all of my relatives here in Taipei have created a sense of home for me.

4. It may be 50-60 degrees here and not a snowflake in sight, but it can still feel pretty cold! Most Taiwanese people I see are walking around with puffy down jackets and UGG boots. Taiwan is so hot most of the year that there are no heated buildings, and I have to layer up to sleep through the nights. It feels like Bay Area weather - chilly, humid, wet, and windy. So although I'm glad I'm avoiding the blizzards back in the States, the t-shirt and shorts I brought will have to wait until Thailand.

5. Lunar New Year here is like Christmas, Thanksgiving, and New Year's Eve all rolled into one. It's still about a month away but all the stores are playing New Year's music nonstop (much more upbeat with more cymbals, brass, and gongs than Christmas music, but it just makes it more inescapable) and selling New Year's candy, banners, and random paraphenalia. I think everyone gets 2 full weeks of vacation so that they can go see their families. There are gifts exchanged, and huge banquets, and lots of excitement and fireworks. I almost wish I could be here to experience it, but it's a logistical nightmare and I am grateful that I will be in NJ for Lunar New Year with my maternal grandma and cousins.

6. There's no way I can eat everything here! Sadly, my stomach and appetite has not been cooperating, mostly because of jet lag, but also because I probably overdid it in the first few days and ate too much fried street food. My family here constantly outeats me. In fact, around them I experience what my friends experience around me, which is a mixture of awe/nausea at how much they eat. I have found myself saying, "I'm sorry, I'm full", "What, you're ordering more?" and "But we just ate!" a shameful number of times. It's nice to know that there are others like me when it comes to inhaling food, but I am giving my stomach a break for now so I can catch up with my family next week.

7. Seems like riding a bike is something I only do in Asia nowadays. The last time I rode one before today was in Beijing. Today, since we're in such an isolated place without regular taxi service, Jason and I decided to bike our way into town. We rented 2 bikes for 4 hours for about $3 US dollars, adjusted the rickety things, and coasted down the hills and took in the lush mountain scenery. We shared the road with scooters, cars, and stray dogs and enjoyed the cool weather and the good exercise. I was afraid that I was going to be unsteady since it's been 4 years since I got on a bike, but well, you know how the cliche goes. 

Forgive me for the corny simile, but being here in Taiwan has felt like riding a bike. Like there was a way of being and inhabiting this world that I learned when I was here the first time that I thought I had forgoten or lost. But now that I am back, the language, skills, habits, and memories I thought I had forgotten have returned. They were just waiting for me to need them again.

first things first: Taiwanese haircut

I made it to Taipei! My flight went smoothly, although my 6 AM stopover in Anchorage, Alaska was pretty surreal. (one of the first things I saw when I got off the plane was a huge stuffed stag head staring at me from behind a glass case) I slept about 7 hours on the plane, ate the decent food and didn't get sick, and watched The Social Network. 

My aunt and cousin woke up early to come pick me up at the airport at 7 AM local time. We took a bus to the the Taipei train station and then a cab to their apartment. The bus ride took about an hour because of traffic, and in the gray early morning light I could still see the lush green mountains. It was in the taxi, with the cabbie chatting away in a mix of Taiwanese and Mandarin, that it really hit me. I'm here! I made it! I'm back in Taipei, with all the scooters, traffic, palm trees, narrow alleys, the tiled sidewalks filled with plastic stools and food stands, crowds and the markets and traditional Chinese characters everywhere. This is the first time I've returned to a city in Asia, and it felt like a homecoming. Memories from my first trip to Taiwan that I haven't thought about in years came flooding back. Even the sewer smell made me nolstagic.Walking up to my uncle's apartment, where I stayed for so long the first time I was here, was a surreal and amazing moment.

I spent my first day here sleeping, eating, and soaking in the thrill of being here. Seeing my uncle again, who reminds me so much of my dad, was wonderful. As the 5 of us (my uncle, aunt, and their two adult children) sat around in the living room, watching TV and chatting, I felt like I had been absorbed into their family. Even though my 3rd grade Chinese definitely limits my interaction, and I haven't seen everyone for 5 years, it still felt natural. Like I belonged. I am so grateful for their love, warmth, and generosity.

I'm also grateful that there's internet access in their apartment! :) So I will use this blog as a more traditional travel diary during my trip now that I know I can update fairly regularly. And here's my first silly anectdote!

Today I had an adventure at the hair salon. I wanted to get my hair cut before I left the U.S. but wasn't able to make it happen. So my aunt took me to a local hair salon. I've gotten my hair cut in Asia before but it always manages to throw me off. I wish one of my Chinese language classes covered haircutting vocab because I never really know what's going on. This salon was fancy, with flat screen TVs embedded in the mirror for you to watch and hot tea to drink while you're waiting. Also, I got a shoulder, arm, hand, and head massage while I was getting my hair washed. The young woman who was giving me the massage and washing my hair was unfailingly polite, checking in with me every minute or so about how I was doing. Unfortunately, she also talked in a very quiet, high-pitched, breathy voice that made it really hard for me to understand her. Our conversations went a little like this: 

"Do you want to [incomprehensible]?"
"What?"
"Do you want a [slightly rephrased but still incomprehensible]"
"Um, I'm sorry, I don't understand."
(I think she actually stamps her foot in frustration at this point) "I said [???]."
(wishing my aunt was next to me so she could translate) "Uh okay." 

At this point I'm about to tell her that I'm not from around here and don't know what she's saying, but then she abruptly leaves. I sit there with lather in my hair for about 30 seconds until another hairdresser has to say to me slowly and loudly, "Rinse. Go to the back for a rinse."

Luckily, by the time I show up in the back looking sheepish, someone has explained to my patient but confused hairwasher that I'm an American. I'm relieved, because up to this point I think she probably thought I was either really slow or trying to be difficult. This comes up a lot when I'm in Asia - I'm too tall to really be from around here, but I also look ethnically Chinese and have a passable command of the language, and no one believes that Asians can really be Americans. (To them, Americans are white. End of story.) So the locals usually treat me like I'm a lapsed Chinese - that I may have strayed abroad for a bit but have now come home so my inherent knowledge of Chinese language, customs, and etiquette will take over for me. When I continue to stumble through everyday interactions, people sometimes get frustrated or treat me like I'm an idiot, until I emphasize again then I was born and raised in America (which still sometimes doesn't let me off the hook). My hairwasher seemed intrigued that I was from America and wanted to talk to me about it. She asked if I understood Chinese, and I said I could understand most of what's said to me as long as peope spoke slowly. She said "oh okay, I'll speak more slowly."

She then turned on the water full blast and proceeded to speak to me more slowly, but at the same whisper-quiet volume of before. Which resulted in a lot more of me asking "what?" and nodding okay when she didn't ask me a yes or no question. A particularly ridiculous exchange went like this:

"Did I rinse [something something]?"
"Yes, yes."
"Where?"
"What? (what do you mean, where?)"
"[something something] rinse your hair."
"Yes, please rinse my hair. (didn't you just do this?)"
"No, is there any part I haven't rinsed?"
"Oh. No, no, everything's fine."

Nothing like conversations like that that make me feel like I wasted 4 years of college-level Chinese language instruction.

Luckily, my haircutter was much louder and clearer and with my aunt's help I was able to get my point across. I got a nice haircut in the classic Asian mullet fashion, with feathered layers and all. The whole thing, including a hairwash and massage for my aunt, ended up costing less than $30 US. Sweet.

Tomorrow, I plan on getting some new glasses. I have no grasp of any Chinese vocab one uses when visiting an optometrist or picking glasses, so I'm looking forward to more adventures in miscommunication. :)

on my way

In about six hours I will board my plane for a 20 hour flight to Taipei. 

I have spent the last week in NJ with my extended family and enjoying their boisterous company. We celebrated the new year together, ate dim sum and hot pot, went to karaoke, played board games (I highly recommend Settlers of Catan), watched movies and TV and anime, shopped,  and spent countless hours around the kitchen table just hanging out and joking around. I saw my oldest aunt's new apartment and had afternoon tea with her and my cousins. I saw what 2 feet of snow looks like in Edison, NJ. I got to play with my baby cousin who toddled around with a stuffed pineapple and chased the dog. In short, I had a wonderful vacation and felt like I really got to relax and be present with my family instead of stressing about my trip. 

Life here has a pace and rhythm of its own, and all decisions are made for me. Though sometimes it's frustrating to not have control over my days, I've enjoyed not having to feel responsible or busy. I've liked sleeping in, having company around, and hearing my grandma's voice mixed with the sound of her cooking. 

I think this feeling of comfort, of being taken care of, of being part of a family will carry through when I go to Taiwan. I am visiting my dad's relatives there (everyone in NJ is connected to my mom and her family).   My aunt will pick me up from the airport and I will be staying in their apartment for the first few nights I'm there. I know I will be comfortable, safe, and looked after,  which eases my anxiety and uncertainty about my trip.  

There is a part of me that still has a hard time believing that this is really about to happen, that in a few short hours I will get on a plane to Asia. My trip is my gift to myself, my break, but also my escape. It was a way to convince myself to leave my job. Traveling abroad was a decent way of explaining my departure from an organization that I have poured all of myself into for the last 2 years. It was a tidy thing to say when people asked me what I was going to do next, a way of avoiding saying, "I have no idea." My trip was always something to work towards, to look forward to, and I never thought through what it would mean to actually live it. 


I still have no idea what I'm doing, but am opening my heart to whatever the experience will bring me. I'm grateful that I have family waiting for me to arrive, that I'm a much more seasoned traveler now than when I went to Asia for the first time when I was 15, that I will have my own space and a degree of autonomy, that I have the time, resources, and ability to go on an adventure of my own making. I'm excited and nervous, but so glad that this is how I get to start my new year. Beneath the "AAAHHH what the hell am I doing?!" feeling is the part of me that is thrilled by the chance to take a plunge. 


I will try to update this blog when I can while I'm in Asia. Thanks for your love and support. I would not be going on this adventure without all of you who encouraged me to live my desires and just go for it. So, that's enough processing. Now it's just time to do this thing. :) See you on the flip side!