I'm thrilled about this upcoming summer, except for the college essays, but maybe those will be fun.
My braces come off in June, I have a camp in July, the Olympics, Euros, and Copa América tournaments will be happening, and more. Above all, we're going to Taiwan and maybe Japan for two weeks.
I had the luxury of traveling all the time when my brother and I were younger. Taiwan was a regular destination. Every summer at least.
Nevertheless, this is the most excited I've ever been for the exact same trip.
I used to dread traveling. I understand how spoiled that sounds, but it's true. Staying home and throwing away time on my phone sounded way more relaxing than exposing myself to the humidity of the Taiwan atmosphere and spilling buckets of sweat from places I didn't know could sweat.
I never appreciated it enough, and I don't think most kids my age did either.
Maybe it's because we weren't "wise" enough like the super sagacious adults who could vote, drink, drive, and do other fancy activities. Maybe we were too young to "understand".
Or maybe it's because I simply hated Taiwan.
I thought it was dirty, at least where I was. Masks were the common culture well before COVID. The large, sticky, perspiration-filled crowds squeezing past each other on the streets disgusted me. The smell of pure motorcycle exhaust corroded my lungs. The sky sometimes appeared a hint of green.
Not to mention, the flight was horrible – 16-18 hours straight. No amount of movies or overfizzy sodas can make that journey more enjoyable. My Chinese also simply wasn't good, but I guess that's my fault.
But now, I need to be back. There hasn't been a day in weeks where I haven't expressed to my mother how much I had to be in Asia, and I'm not sure why.
***
There are a lot of people I'd like to see.
For one, my grandmother. I saw her last summer, but I already miss her. She's the kind that surprises you with cookies after school – thankfully she's not one of the grumpy ones. The only problem with visiting her is that she always has something to give me, usually money.
Maybe that's not really a huge problem, but if you have the slightest sliver of decency, you'll feel at least a little guilty.
My old friend Morris moved back to Taiwan after 8th grade. We met up last trip as well for a day, going to the mall, eating, sightseeing, but mostly eating. Hopefully, we can hang out for a little longer, and maybe not when I'm severely jetlagged.
In that same vein, food is definitely something I miss.
The night markets in Taiwan are ridiculous. As dusk descends, the sun is replaced by neon lights illuminating alleyways and attempting to lure you in. The air is alive with the sizzling of chicken from hawkers. Fragrant smoke finds its way into your nostrils, hopefully replacing that of the motorcycle exhaust.
Actual restaurants look straight out of somebody's basement. Yet, that's where you find the best food – and for the best price.
One of my first meals the last time I landed in Taiwan was this beef noodle soup.
The scenery looks like your average home kitchen, doesn't it? Most importantly, my meal, my mom's, and Andre's all probably cost around $10.
Perhaps what I miss the most is the vibe – the sound of my open-toed sandals slapping the concrete roads, the late-night shopping sprees at UNIQLO – the very idea of being in your home country.
There's no doubt that Taiwan, specifically Taipei where we normally stay, is pretty chaotic and rustic with a blend of modernism.
Some of the outside-facing walls tend to have soot smearing down the sides. Pipes are exposed and seem to crawl and migrate like ivy from building to building. There is barely a "sidewalk". Cars and motorcycles dash past inches away from your toes. Narrow alleyways wind through the urban sprawl. Many shops are opened via a rusted, metal garage door. It's "dirty".
But maybe some things are better dirty. Messy aprons (with clean sleeves) indicate your culinary expertise. An MMA fighter's blood-filled cauliflower ears are a testament to their experience in the cage. A painter's smudged palette can showcase their creativity, rather than a display of disorder. Bruised and greased-up hands can demonstrate a mechanic's hard work. Soiled shorts after a sports match are signs of your valiant effort.
Dirt can leave stains. You choose if you want to wash them out.
Comments