Goodbye (Taipei, Taiwan)

After getting back from Manila, I spent a few days relishing my empty apartment. My roommate was visiting home in Japan. I ate takeout soup dumplings and Vietnamese food, studied for the GRE, and watched TV. A friend was in a television drama. Every night he’d text me: ‘turn to channel 8, and you can see me!’ I’d start to drift off watching his TV show, not understanding the Taiwanese and too tired to read the quickly changing Chinese subtitles.

Then my first goodbye of the last week struck. I went to visit my old Fulbright host family in Luodong, the town next over to where I lived last year in Yilan. Even though the bus ride is only an hour from where I lived in Taipei, I almost never went back to visit. I still saw my host sister regularly in Taipei, even after she graduated from NTU and started working, and every once and a while had dinner with the rest of her family. Not having any family of my own around, it was nice to be invited to the important events of someone’s else family – Chinese New Year, college graduation, and family dinners – even if my mind sometimes drifted absently as everyone spoke in Mandarin too rapid for me to keep up with (or, with the older folks, Taiwanese).

We walked around a nearby park and sat next to the lake, watching the trains go by, and then got dinner at a Western-style restaurant with the rest of the family. I learned about an aunt who was going to quit her job and travel the world until she found love as I ate my pumpkin gnocchi and avoided the squid-ink bread. For dessert we had a red bean cake to celebrate three upcoming birthdays: mine (9/1, 24 years), my host brother’s (9/3, 12 years), and my host sister’s (9/6, 22 years). It’s an odd coincidence of numbers.

Then my host mom drove me over to the bus station. My young host brother was forced to grudgingly say goodbye in English (that’s what happens when your mother is an English teacher), while I did the same in Chinese. I told them how thankful I was to have gotten the chance to get to know them all, and my host sister told me to stop trying to make them cry. I’d see her later in Taipei anyway. I got on the bus. Goodbye Luodong!

After that, I was seized with the intense need to experience everything ‘unique’ to Taiwan before leaving, everything that I would miss and miss out on after leaving. It was overwhelming and I ended up just hanging out in cafes studying. I had another goodbye dinner, although this one seemed less sad, more our-paths-will-cross-again and we’ll be just fine in the meantime.

  I went through a packing frenzy, as if I could just rush through this sad end to things and move on to the next part of my life. I had another goodbye, with my television drama friend. This one was tough. I spent half a day at home ignoring the half-packed suitcases and working my way through the giant box of moon cakes he’d given me. I’m not much one for wallowing though. I got off the couch, finished packing and sold or shipped the rest of my belongings. Studied for the GRE more. Researched my prospective grad schools. My roommate came back from Japan, which brought some life back into the apartment.

I had my fourth goodbye of the week with two friends from Yilan. I slurped down a gigantic bowl of beef noodle soup with them, before heading over to Da’an park. As we walked there, we stopped at a bakery. My friend told me to distract our other friend while she bought him a cake for his birthday, which had been a few days before. When we got to the park she unveiled two cakes – she had not only enlisted my help, but also told him to distract me so she could buy a cake for my birthday as well. We laughed and ate our cakes.

The next day, I finalized everything. It was Saturday. I was leaving Sunday afternoon. My bags were packed, my room bare. My roommate and I went to my favorite café and that was my goodbye to the XX and comfy chairs with cappuccinos, scones, and pumpkin soup.

That night, my roommate and host sister went to a night market for pan fried buns, Taiwanese sausage, stinky tofu, oyster omelets, and chocolate, matcha and red bean xue hua bing (snow ice).

Afterwards, we went to a bookstore so I could buy a Chinese food cookbook in Chinese as a method of combating the language loss and hunger pangs that will inevitably occur when I return to the states. We had some trendy green tea drinks with a salty, foamy top that my roommate and I both gagged on (to my host sister’s amusement). We finished our goodbye and went home.

On Sunday, my last day, I ended up making my final goodbye to my television drama friend. I had one of those wonderfully terrible hugs where you hold the other person so tight it feels impossible to ever let them go, but then you do, and instead it feels impossible to ever touch them again, and it’s over, they leave, and it’s time for you to leave too.

So I did.

I don't really cry easily but sometimes it seems like my tears are saving themselves specifically to embarrass me in the most public places possible: the Beijing International Airport, the Boston Logan airport, Taipei’s Bureau of Consular Affairs - and now the Taipei Songshan airport. At least I’m not the only one – later on, boarding my connecting flight in Shanghai, I saw a young woman crying out her goodbyes into a cell phone as she walked up to the plane.

 

As the plane rolled out onto the runway, I could see Taipei 101 in the distance, until we started moving faster, going farther and farther, and rising up into the air, and Taipei 101 was gone. I was still pretty teary at this point but then the plane rose higher over the clouds and the view was so beautiful that it completely distracted me. I spent the whole flight to Shanghai watching the sun go down.

I had an overnight layover and I was leaving from a different airport, on the other side of Shanghai. The logistics of handling this kept me feeling busy instead of melancholy, especially when I was stopped at customs for half an hour. My passport was taken away with little explanation, but it wasn't the first time I’ve been detained in Mainland China with my passport taken away and no explanation offered, so I wasn’t too worried. After asking what was going on – “don’t worry, we just need to process your passport correctly, sit tight” – the customs officials realized I could speak Chinese and we chatted a bit. At first, they were impressed with my Chinese, but there was a phrase I didn’t understand and so they asked where I studied – “Taiwan,” I said. They laughed a little and said I couldn’t study proper Chinese there. I didn’t really want to argue with the custom officials in charge of my entry, so I just returned to my seat and passed the time reviewing GRE vocab.

I ate the best wonton soup of my life that night, searched fruitlessly for a source of internet, and fell asleep watching Audrey Hepburn fall for Humphrey Bogart in Sabrina. I woke up the next day, refreshed and 24 years old, ready to head west and chase another sunset.

Makati, Metro Manila, Phillipines

My trip to Manila was mostly about food. My reason for going was originally because my resident visa for Taiwan was expiring. I had to leave and re-enter as a tourist if I wanted to stay a bit longer once classes ended last week. But then my priority quickly became food. Naturally.

I got to my hostel and realized that it was almost completely empty, so there were not really any friends to be made there (save for two Filipino girls in my room but they nearly slept through my whole stay). Also, it was hot and my shared room only had fans.

I stuck to the air-conditioned museums, cafes and restaurants in Makati. I really liked many of the paintings at the Yuchengo Museum and Ayala Museum. Yuchengo Museum actually had an exhibition in which there was an ipad set up in front of each piece of art and you could lift the ipad, point the camera at the piece so that you were viewing it on the screen, and once you found the right spot to focus on, the artwork would become animated on the screen and change in some way.

   

For the food part, photos work better than words. Churros with chocolate. Longanisa. Shrimp with coconut milk curry. Tomato and chorizo with a fried egg and arugula. Chicken sigsig tacos. Ensaymada. Chorizo burger. Salted caramel self-serving soft serve at Family Mart. Double chocolate gelato frappacino, the likes of which I have never seen before.









    

My only problem is that I always want to try everything but also I think it’s really terrible to waste food. In a group this is more of a good thing than a problem, but creates a dilemma when eating alone. So, every now and then, I end up with too much food but still retain my determination to wipe the plate clean.

And that’s exactly what happened with the sea salt chocolate cake at Wildflour.

I thought I’d ordered a reasonable amount: half a Reuben sandwich and a slice of chocolate cake. Not bad, right? Admittedly, the “half sandwich” ended up being the size of a normal whole one but it was tasty and original and I liked it.

Then this monstrosity came out:



I think the photo doesn’t do it justice. It was approximately the size of my head. I just gaped at it for a few seconds after the waiter set it down.

It didn’t take me long to get started – and it was delicious, sea-salty-chocolaty goodness – but as I was finishing the last half, I kind of felt like the chubby kid in Matilda who eats that massive chocolate cake in front of the whole school. When I finished, a little part of me wanted to raise the empty plate and cheer to the applause of everyone around. Instead, I just walked out to the Ayala triangle park and collapsed in the grass.

I eventually managed to straggle over to the air conditioned Greenbelt malls and kind of stretch my legs a bit, walking around. It was time to head back to the airport for my flight, but I didn’t have enough cash left to take a taxi to the airport, so I started meandering over to the buses. That is, until the sky parted and dumped an ocean’s worth of water over Manila. Then I was running, not walking. I managed to shelter my electronics but my poor self was like a 落汤鸡 (luo4tang1ji1) – a drenched chicken. I got onto a bus, perched precariously on the stairs overlooking the road, holding on the bars with a death grip as we hurtled down overpasses on a slick wet road.

Turns out, Manila’s airport has a total of four terminals and they’re not exactly all in the same place. My bus did not go to my terminal, so I was dropped off on the side of the road, and pointed in the right direction by the ticket collector. I walked along on the nearly non-existent sidewalk. I didn’t see anything resembling an airport around or any planes flying overhead. But a few people passing by confirmed the ticket collector’s directions, so I just continued.

Then a man in a red sports car pulled up and called out to me. I stopped walking and turned to face him, but didn’t move any closer and made sure to wear my what-the-hell-do-you-want-face (I forget sometimes and smile politely on automatic, which is possibly the worst thing to do). The man gave a sheepish laugh and paused, before asking, “What’s your name?”

I saw that coming, so I just said, “No,” and kept walking. I wonder how some men don’t realize how threatening it feels to have them pull up in a car alongside a woman walking alone (and not just in a place notorious for kidnappings like the Philippines, but almost anywhere, really).

I stopped to ask a couple cops how far Terminal 3 was (even though the cops there all carry guns out in the open and that kind of makes me nervous too). They exchanged looks before telling me to grab a cab, it was too far to walk. So I did, especially in light of what just happened.

I spent my last few hours in Manila drinking tea to sooth my poor overburdened stomach and reading Anna Karenina on my laptop (which I really, really like but only read bits and pieces every now and then so I haven’t finished yet and it’s been nearly a year since I started). I felt really gloomy on the flight back because going back marked the start of the end of my time in Taiwan.

I got another rough reminder of the Big Change coming when I got to customs and had to wait in the “Foreigner” line instead of the “Resident” line. I didn’t know what to fill out on the entrance form. Purpose of my visit: Packing up my stuff? Eating at my favorite noodle place one last time? Saying goodbye?

I marked “visiting the sites” to avoid confusing the immigration agent. A taxi driver honed in on me the second I stepped outside the restricted area. “Taipei?” he asked. It was 2 AM and the buses wouldn’t be in operation for a while yet. I really wanted to take a shower and sleep. I told him yes, but I only had NT$700 left on me, so I was going to need to split the ride with another passenger. We found a skinny guy with a wide-brimmed straw hat and set off.

The driver and I chatted a bit after dropping off the other passenger, he told me I needed to find a good job so that I could afford to pay for taxi rides on my own, and then we were there, I turned up the air con, took a hot shower and slept.

Nike Women's Half-Marathon (Taipei)

Last Sunday I ran in the Nike women's half-marathon, although I almost didn't make it to the race on time. I had kept busy the last few days leading up to the event, moving into a new apartment, getting to know my new roommate, and going to a friend's college graduation, but I left my Saturday evening free so that I could relax, eat well, and go to sleep early. Unfortunately, I woke up a few times in a panic, worried that I'd overslept. I even had a terrifying nightmare that I'd overslept and hadn't made it to the event at all, only to wake up and realize in relief that it was only 2:00 AM. My alarm was set for 3:30 AM, the storage lockers would be open for use from 4:30 AM to 5:15 AM, and the actually race itself would start at 5:30 AM.

My alarm did not go off. I woke up on my own, noticing that the sky had already begun lightening outside, and panic clawed its way down my throat. I was afraid to look at my phone, sure that I'd slept in too late. It was 4:50 AM. There was no way I'd make it in time to store my stuff in the lockers but I could still make the race. I dressed, pulled my hair back, and grabbed five things: NT$1000, my ARC ID, my race bib, a time tracker, and the key card to my apartment. I couldn't store anything, so I could only take essentials. And I forgot to eat breakfast. Not the best start.

I did manage to stop in a 711 and get some water before sprinting down to a bigger road so I could flag a taxi. I hurriedly explained my situation to the driver, who managed to get me to the race start location with five minutes to spare. I was so incredibly relieved, not even caring that my start was less than ideal. I made it to the race on time! Now, to actually run it...

I had not realized how many people would be there - it was amazing to see so many thousands of women, all running this race. This was my first race so nearly everything was new to me and caught my attention - running out in the middle of the street (especially on the raised highway) was such a novelty to me, and I also liked looking at the gear other people were using, the clothes they chose to wear (best one: pink tutu), the music they were playing, how they were keeping pace...I tend to be most comfortable keeping a very steady pace when going such a long distance, so I was a little frustrated when people would sprint by, weaving in between runners and then stop, too tired to continue, and walk, getting in the way of the people they'd been weaving through. But anyways.

I had my cash stuffed down in my sock (resulting the smelliest bills ever, I am so sorry for the people I ended up paying that money to), and my ARC and key card in my hands. I decided not to bring my ipod as 1). I actually don't have any of those carrying/strap cases so I'd have to carry yet another thing in my hands and 2). I didn't want to be so focused on my music that I missed out on what was going on around me. It was fun being cheered on by people, getting high fives (and snacks!). Surprisingly, despite not having eaten, I felt full of energy and pretty good. About halfway through though, the snack tables started popping up and so as soon as I encountered the first one I grabbed a cracker and a cookie and just stuffed my face as I was running. The route eventually took us off the road and onto the riverside park path, which is very pretty - and I'd never been on that part of it, so it was nice to explore a new area. I was definitely feeling strained as I reached the last few kilometers but my goal was to do the whole thing without walking and I succeeded! And now I have a time that I can try to go and beat for next time. 

After the run, I collected my medal, free T-shirt, and sports drink (I never thought something so gross could taste so good), and relaxed in the air-conditioned bus that drove us back to the locker area in Xinyi, near to Taipei 101.There was a big stage with some people performing / talking to the crowd about something (I was too tired to really pay attention), and tents giving out free stuff, but all I really wanted was to get cleaned up, so I went home, devoured a snickers, and jumped in the shower. And then, remembering how satisfying the food from Sababa had been to a friend of mine after she ran a marathon, I decided I also wanted to load up on Middle Eastern food. So I decided to introduce my new roommate to the amazingness of Sababa.

I slept a lot after that. The only thing I regret is not having my phone to take photos, although you can see photos of the event here. If I'm still in Taipei this time next year, I'll definitely run it again!