I think I've been here about 4 or 5 times this year. Mad love for this city.
So, I have to say, this post is going to be really short since it just involved debauchery at every step. Thorin and I had flown in from Singapore in the AM flight, and decided to pop over to Wulai in the morning to do the same route I did during my trip to Wulai. We take the KuoKuang bus into Taipei Main station, and since we already have our metro cards sorted out, we quickly hop en route to Xindian Station in order to catch the bus to Wulai. One stop away from Taipei Main Station, I have a heart-sinking feeling. In that split-second I also work up the courage to tell Thorin, in as calm of a manner, "Oh shoot... I forgot my phone on the bus."
By now the bus has to have gone. I rush back to Taipei Main station and go to an information counter, explaining my situation. I get nervous, and they said the Taipei Bus Station is in another part of the station. For those that have been to Taipei Main Station, it's separated into the train part, the MRT part, and the bus part. But it's under the umbrella term "Taipei Main Station." So, I hustle over to the other side of the street to the bus station service counter. There is this fierce woman dressed in blue, wearing one of those KuoKuang bus vests. She's picking up her 1980s twirly cord phone made of plastic and slamming her newly painted nails against the soft plastic buttons. She yells something into the phone in an elegant and swift Mandarin, and then hangs up, and then has a resting concerned look on her face; a slight furrow of the brow. The plastic covering over the phone machine in the space between the buttons has a few curls and rips in it, peeling off from the corner where the space meets the edge of the button, showing a general wear and tear. I decide to approach her. She has an efficient and tough quality to her, tough to face, but tough enough to get the job done. I explain my situation in Chinese and she says "what time was your bus."
"Hm.. Must have left at about 6:15."
She flips through the bus schedule, tucked away also in a plastic sleeve.
"When did you arrive."
"Fifteen minutes ago. I was sitting in the back."
She looks again, and she asks one final question, one to which I do not have the answer to.
"What did your driver look like?"
I felt like I was at a police court reporting someone who had done a crime. I had seriously no clue what he looked like. When he collected the tickets, he was helping others put the luggage into the storage compartment in the bus, and Thorin and I rushed on the bus to get some shut eye. He was a happy man, good disposition, I remember him smiling, but I was too tired to recall what he actually looked like.
She told me to take a seat and wait. At this point Thorin has utilized his well-improved Mandarin to secure us some buns at the local bun shop in the station hall. I'm standing there still nervous and eating my bun, and Thorin is enjoying his, probably shaking his head in disappointment at my carelessness. The lady behind the counter uses her terse voice to yell something over at the ticketing lady; I thought it was regarding me, but it wasn't. I'm just standing there with Thorin, hoping I"ll get my phone back. We have a bit of a conversation. The lady, taking a break from her job talks to us for a bit and asks me where I am from, and makes small talk, breaking character for a bit.
Soon, she tells me to look at a man and asks if this was the driver. I look at him and smile, shake my head in apology saying I really don't remember what the driver looks like. But, somewhere, as a subconscious indicator, Thorin says that he has a hunch that that guy is our driver. He smiles at us while we converse in English. And, almost in an instant, there it was. That happy man, that good disposition. There was nothing about his look that I really remember, but there was something about that happy disposition that made Thorin feel so strongly that this was our driver. He was still smiling, and told me to go to the back of his bus to check to see if the phone is there. I quickly rush past the ticketing lady and she tells me I need to present a ticket. I explain my situation using far too many words, and before I can finish the lady at the counter yells over saying it's OK, he's looking for a phone. So I go on, and as I board that bus it feels familiar. Again, I'm not sure what it is about it but I just had a hunch it was going to be there. In the back of the bus, my phone tucked in its brown case, being plugged into the USB charger -- the reason I forgot it in the first place.
I smile, first at the driver, then to the lady behind the counter. I'm absolutely elated and hold my phone up to the sky like some pseudo-Simba, my faith in Taiwanese people being constantly renewed. I thank them profusely, thank you thank you thank you, 謝謝謝謝謝謝謝多了. Then, noticing we are behind schedule, we run off to the MRT station.
Wulai:
I decided not to split up by city posts since it's not worth detailing in bits, and it breaks continuity. We arrive in Wulai and stop by the 711, with the lady seeing our backpacks and wondering where we're headed. Out in aboriginal towns, the people are slower paced at life, and they are a lot more friendly. We talk about the waterfall, about the recent storm in Wulai, and how there should be a good water flow. She bids us a farewell as we begin to climb to the top.
When we make it to the waterfall, near the museum, we ask if we can drop our backpacks off at the museum with the attendant there. He talks to us again for another 5 minutes about the museum, speaking in English so that Thorin is able to understand. We tell him we will walk around the museum for a bit, and then be on our way to the suspension bridge that is located just further up the road, about a 30 minute hike. I did the same hike last time. Thorin and I do a bit of exploring, and then go to the drop bridge. On the way, we meet a man who has parked his scooter next to a small waterfall cascading down the side of the cliffs, just off the side of the road. He beckons us over and starts telling us about the quality of the water. He says it's so good that it's even fresher than the water you buy at 711. He takes his metallic bowl, leans over into the water falling down from the rocks, and then fills the bowl up. He tells me to try some. Normally, in other places in the world, we're concerned about trying things that people give us. We learn to navigate that sometimes people may be up to something, that we're suspicious of them, and to kindly refuse anything offered. Something about this man seemed pretty harmless, so I took the bowl, and drank it. Fresh, mountain water, cooled from the upstream shade. I also took some of it to wash my face as I had sweated through it carrying that backup up to the waterfall. Thorin has a look of hesitation on his face, but I just tell him that it's fine and he also does it. We're a bit awkward about it, but this man is smiling at us, his smile almost urging us to do it. So we do. And I chat to him about the water. Yes, a full conversation about the quality of this waterfall, how he comes up here everyday just to fill up water after a good rain, and how he loves this particular one. And, it wasn't like it was a huge waterfall. It was a mere trickle down the side of the mountain. It was unsuspecting as any other. But the water was great.
At the top, the drop bridge is in a state of disrepair. The last time I was here was April of the same year, and that time I could cross the bridge and go to the trail on the other side, with that being blocked off. This time, the suspension bridge had actually collapsed on the entrance to the point of no entry. The thing with this area is that repairs are rather slow, and they get hard hit by typhoons all the time, so it's difficult to maintain the infrastructure. Even the small train that used to run from the bottom of the hill to the waterfall was broken. What was working, however, was the cable car to the top of the mountain. Thorin and I did not end up taking that -- too expensive for us. So, we made it to the bridge and at that point we had just given up, and decided to head back down to the waterfall. Near the completed walkway for the bridge, there were a few seats (the walkway wasn't completed in April, I had to walk on roadside). Thorin and I took the seats. What happened next was uncanny, we heard a Windows system bootup sound. All the way out here in the mountains, some signal of technology. I was confused for a second, until I saw two men working to repair the overhead speakers for the area, presumably used as a tool to warn those in the area about weather conditions. You know what sound I'm talking about right? When the logo pops up, it goes like bo dang... ding DING!
We pick up our backpacks, and on our way down an aboriginal lady stops us to go into her shop. She tries to sell us scarves that she has hand made, but we do not buy. What does happen instead is a conversation for 5 minutes about the state of Wulai, and about how there are not many tourists in that part anymore.
I tell Thorin this, sometimes when we move through Taiwan together, people treat us differently. They'll always try approaching us in English first, and they'll make a concerted effort to talk in English to us until I break that cycle by speaking Chinese. They will sometimes approach us selling stuff when we're not interested. I still think it's quite uncommon to see an Asian man and White man traveling through Southeast Asia together. Of course, you'll see Asian girls and White men quite often, as that pairing just tends to be more common, but for a case like Thorin and me it's different. When I travel through Asia alone, specifically Taiwan, I can finally blend in. People expect me to speak Chinese to them. They don't care that I was born and raised in the U.S. or about how my experience as an Asian American has shaped me, at least not on the surface. They treat me like I'm one of them.
For a lot of people, this may be disappointing to them. There's a certain need to present our identity and have people accept it and understand it, without knowing that it takes time for these relationships to develop. I know of some Asian Americans that think when they go to Taiwan they're 'above' the locals since they have that hyphenated American aspect tagged to their identity, or somehow they deserve preferential treatment because they can speak English well. I hate this superiority complex, on two fronts. One, because it's absolutely looking down on the local population, and you're a dick for doing that. But two, I see a lot of my Asian American friends get stuck in this perpetual cognitive dissonance when they either visit, or move to Taiwan. The locals will *always* treat you like a local if you look like it, in the same way that people in America expect you to speak English only, regardless of your background. I think this fact hurts us, us folk that were raised in the U.S. but have Taiwan roots, but may not have the best language abilities in Chinese. We feel like we don't belong in Taiwan, there's nothing about here that makes us special since we're just like everyone else. The fact that people there don't 'get' us and we don't fit into their space. But, in that space, I find peace. For once, I have the privilege of being among people that look like me. For once, I get to blend in, and be humbled by that experience of being 'average.' As people get to know you more, they'll come to appreciate your history, but on face level, I enjoy the fact that I can be a little anonymous. Traveling with Thorin to Taiwan breaks that, and we're well aware of it, but I enjoy those moments alone when I start up a conversation with a stranger, and I hear about one person's story, and it's a legitimate connection between two people, done in Chinese. It's almost like a personal Humans of New York journey.
After our walk, we walk around town, go to the hot spring. There's another white man there and instantly strikes up a conversation with Thorin. I'm happy to fade into the background. We meet a woman from Taipei city who is criticizing Xi Jinping and his foreign politics, also stuck in the same pool as us. The community there is nice. People bathing alone, people bathing together and chatting. We look out into the river and at the town, and are at peace. You know, peace before our weekend of drunken mess-ness.
I take Thorin to the same place we had lunch. The waiter is the same. The lady I met last time had left. We go next door to buy 小米酒, rice wine, and the lady there is still the same lady that was selling from the last time. She remembers me, and recalls our conversation from 6 months ago, and welcomes me back again. It already feels like a family here and this is only my second time here. I tell Thorin next time I'll take him to Jiufen to try all the fun stuff there, and I'm sure he'll love it. Aboriginal towns are an absolute favorite. We have plans to get drunk that night, so we backtrack and head back into the rough of Taipei City, all the way up to Tianmu to have a meal with my cousin Eugenia. Before that, we drop off our bags at the hostel. Full of gay men. Love it. Pride weekend here we come!
Taipei:
The plan that night was to have dinner and drinks with my cousin Eugenia. Afterwards, we would go out to the Grand Hyatt area and out for drinks.
Dinner goes as planned. We go to 江家, a small local place near Tianmu. We sip on nice whiskey at the house, and then are on our way out. We tell our cab driver to go to the Grand Hyatt Hotel, the one with all the hauntings, and he takes us there. We meet up with Josh, our friend based in Hong Kong, and take out Patricia, our cousin. We're just sitting outside sipping on some bevvies. Then, we hit up another bar and go meet up with our friends Jon and Odem, the former from New York and the latter from Taipei. It's this weird mix of friends coming together, but I'm happy. We go to some bar, not sure which one. It's pretty debauchery-ish, bunch of half-naked men. Just my type. I'm in overalls with nothing underneath. I love it. After that, we go to a club. I don't remember much after that, but we get a cab back to our hostel and roll in at about 3 AM. Sorry gay boys, the other gay boys have arrived and disturbed you.
The next day was pride day, with the parade happening near the central area. Thorin and I head over and there are throngs of gay Asian men everywhere. What am empowering statement to see gay Asian men everywhere. Finally, a representation of who I am, my body, out in the streets. We join in the parade and march with the People. One notable difference between pride here and pride in the U.S. is the non-corporate involvement in the issue. In the other prides I've been to, or various pride celebrations, there have always been corporate sponsors who have marched alongside the queers. In Taiwan, I only noticed a Citibank, and a few underwear brands with hunky men dancing on it. Otherwise, there wasn't much. Also, it's a lot less rowdy than in the United States. There's not a bunch of people screaming, just some guys walking together and occasionally taking pictures together, chatting. The pathway was all open, and so there was no barrier between the viewers and the participants. Anyone could, at any time, jump in and out of the parade. A couple of guys we saw jumped out to 鼎泰豐, Din Tai Fung, while looping around. All throughout, there was a small fuzzy rain that trickled throughout. This did not deter anyone from walking, they just popped up umbrellas and kept walking. In total, we probably walked for 2 hours around the large perimeter. A big sea of pink, rainbow, and other colors. A national walkathon day.
As I write this, Taiwan is pegged to be the first East Asian country to legalize gay marriage. Following the suicide of a French professor, who was denied hospital visitation rights to his Taiwanese partner in his last days of cancer, spurred the protests and the push for change. President Tsai Ing-Wen is also an avid supporter of gay rights. Under the common law the two were friends, not lovers, and many are pushing to use his death as a necessity to push forward the gay agenda. The reason I bring this up here is not to take a stance on the issue, although it's quite clear where I stand. Rather, what I want to do is to just leave a marker here. It's currently December 2nd, 2016. Taiwan is set to decide on the gay rights issue next year. If they pass it, Thorin and I will probably go there to arrange a marriage license. It would be an absolute dream.
After the parade come the circuit parties, arguably what most people go to Taipei Pride for anyway. That night ended with us going out again with our two friends, and me having too much soju and I think at one point throwing up. I don't know. We went out with Jon Chan and his boyfriend, and then went to Triangle club like we did last year. The experience was pretty fun.. just walked around and danced a lot. There was a drag show. We met some interesting characters. Pretty standard in a gay night out.
The next day was just one activity. We always do this when we go to Taiwan since we're not sure what else to do. We head to Xinbeitou and soak in the hot springs. Then go walk around and head to Ximen and the gay area to grab a drink and catch the scenery. As usual, I am impressed by the openness of Taiwanese people and how forward thinking their culture is. They're really something to look out for in the future. Anyway, this blog is a bit short as I'm backlogging. What we've found certain peace in is just being able to blend in and relax now to cities that we've been to before. That was Taiwan this time. Walking around, visiting some popular sites, hanging in a hotspring, and just shopping. At night, Thorin catches his late flight back to Singapore, and I catch the high speed rail off to Kaohsiung to visit my family and spend some time with my stepmom for her birthday. There's something about the culture in Taiwan that puts you at ease. It's inseparable from the Taiwanese identity and the locals also emulate the same atmosphere. For someone who's never lived here, I'm sure finding it hard to leave.