TAIPEI PART I: Monuments and Markets

We arrived in Taipei in the evening without light and quite tired. From the airport we took a shuttle bus to the central district where we were staying and pretty nearly collapsed into the hotel room, not forgetting, of course, to buy one of Taiwan's iconic bubble teas along the way.

Taipei Streets

Getting out of the hotel the next day and the next few days I was impressed and intrigued by Taipei's size and cleanliness, by its spacious parks and shuffling markets, by its peculiar newness and oldness. There is a strange disconnect in Taipei's gorgeous national theater, its awesome memorial to leader Chiang Kai Shek, its Palace Museum. These buildings are not old, but were built to carry something old, to bring something old to a new place, in the process creating something new. I know embarrassingly little about the politics of Taiwan and China, but I can appreciate the intricacies of cultural monuments in a country that claims two births.

Chiang Kai Shek Memorial Hall

National Concert Hall

Most of the time as we explored Taipei by foot or subway the city did not feel crowded. Built right into the mountain feet the air in Taipei was incredibly fresh, impressively so for a city of that size. I loved the airiness of the buildings there — not having a real winter so many restaurants, cafes, businesses opened onto the streets. All around the high rise apartments had sprouted trees and flowers from roofs and balconies. Even walls there wore vegetation.

Living wall on an office building

Taipei apartments: downtown

That airy quality only changed in the evenings, if you happened to stumble into one of Taipei's famous night markets — a feat we managed quite purposefully and frequently. The night markets are famous, they are ubiquitous, and they deserve every bit of praise they have every received. They literally transform the streets of Taipei, like some kind of architectural performance art. It was at night at the markets, more than in the day, that I felt I was seeing the full range and texture of Taipei's population. Imagine (you will have to imagine as I couldn't force myself to take pictures in that throng), imagine thirty or sixty streets tucked behind the main roads of Taipei. Imagine the movement of hundreds of people funneling north, south, east, west, stopping, being carried along. Imagine the slow and impenetrable rush of the central market and the sudden exhale, the giddiness of the side street where you find yourself — unbelievably — free. It was beautiful, overwhelming — I can't believe it goes on every day. And I haven't even told you about the food yet.

We ate steamed buns filled with meat, steamed buns filled with vegetables; pancakes with custard, pancakes with red bean; fried sweet potato, fried cabbage omelet — fried anything — and delicious syrup coated strawberries on a stick. We ate so much our first night at the market I can hardly remember. There is one food however, that I will never forget, despite not having tasted a bite; there is nothing like walking lazily through the market and suddenly catching a whiff of stinky tofu. It's smell is truly singular and while I believe that the taste might be worth it, I was not tempted to eat any myself.

Taipei Day Market

Though I failed to snap a picture of the night market, we were lucky enough to see two other types of Taipei markets during our stay. The first was a day market only a few blocks from our hotel. It offered fresh fruits, vegetables, fish, meats, and a few miscellaneous, but necessary, goods such as flowers and foot massages (yes, you can get a foot massage at the market, but no, I did not). The second market began around Taipei's City God Temple and traveled on for several streets selling candies, lanterns, nuts, dried fruit, dried fish, dried (I think) sea cucumber, chinese herbal medicine and brightly colored envelopes — everything and anything you could ever dream of needing to celebrate the lunar new year. Although I loved the night markets I think this market, with its red and gold, its atmosphere of festivity and anticipation, was my favorite.

City God Market

I'm now at home and my host family is preparing for the Lunar New Year. For Koreans also it is one of the biggest holidays of the year, more important, I was told, than Chuseok. So we are buying socks to give as gifts and Thursday my host mom will cook copious amounts of food for Friday's celebration. We even received a New Year's gift set as a valued customer at the local store — beautifully boxed and wrapped Spam. Happy New Year everyone!

JOURNEY TO THE WEST

In two days I will be flying to Taipei. One day ago I booked the flight. Two days ago I thought all my travel plans might be cancelled. Why? Because three days ago my friend and I finally decided the situation in Bangkok right now is too unstable to warrant our traveling there. If you haven't been following the situation in Bangkok, which is not surprising as there hasn't been much media coverage, here's a brief layman's summary:

About a month ago the Thai government attempted to pass a bill that would give former Thai Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra amnesty from prosecution for any past crimes (Thaksin is currently in self-exile due to the corruption charges against him; the current Prime Minister Yingluck Shinawatra is his sister). This bill spurred a large protest movement centered in Bangkok that has been calling for the current Prime Minister to step down and for her replacement by an un-elected people's council. The situation has been exacerbated as the Prime Minister called for elections (which she would likely win due to a large rural support base) in February. Though violence hasn't officially broken out there have been shots fired, people injured around protests and police have used tear gas to disperse large groups. Protests are set to resume this Monday, January 13th, and this time protesters hope to shut down the entire city of Bangkok by occupying main intersections around the city center. Further complicating the situation is the Thai military which has a history of successful and unsuccessful political coups and will be entering the city in force January 18th for an Army Day Parade. [Note: this is my personal understanding, gleaned from various new sources, and is not meant to be taken as an official report of any kind.]

So, although the situation is not, and may not become, violent and although protesters are not targeting tourists or tourist attractions, the unpredictability of the situation and increased difficulty of transportation around the city seemed too large a risk for us at the moment. I know some of my friends are still traveling to Bangkok around this time and I hope everything goes smoothly for them.

Luckily, my friend and I were able to do a quick turnaround, cancel our flights and re-book a trip Seoul - Taipei - Hanoi - Seoul, allowing us to arrive in Hanoi the same day we had planned originally. Even more luckily the cost was only a little more than our original trip and the flight cancellation fees minimal compared to what they might have been for a flight in the U.S..

So now we're going to Taipei and Hanoi! We will be in Taipei the 15th to the 19th and Hanoi the 19th to the 25th. I'm beyond excited and so relieved that our plans were saved in such a way. And like my friend said 'Blessing in disguise?' I'm sure Bangkok would have been wonderful, but now we have the chance to explore Taiwan, a place I might never have visited otherwise (not from disinterest of course, but the usual lack of knowledge, time and money). Besides that I got a spark of spontaneity.

Now I'm ready to enjoy some 70 degree weather, to take pictures, to learn, explore and eat, and to report back to all of you when I return!

CHRISTMASTIME IS HERE

Though Christmas has come and gone I wanted to share a few of the photos from my time at home (which you can read more about here). For the first time I had a good excuse to photograph every detail of our Christmas celebrations and I really enjoyed it.

The winter house.

Hot cocoa and cookies by the fire.

Christmas Eve with family and the second smallest Christmas tree ever.

Christmas Morning — coffee, fruit and baked pecan french toast.

Every year our family walks to the beautiful Como Conservatory to see the Christmas flower show and every year it's gorgeous.

Of course, most of the time I was home Minnesota was having record low temperatures, as low as -26F, with one surprising 40 degree day thrown in. We still managed to have a lot of fun though with walking, skating and playing games indoors. We also went to see the movie Frozen which was one of the best disney movies I've seen in a long time. It had a lot in common with the classic childhood cartoons that lived and breathed on plentiful singing and comic characters.

KOREAN WINTER: may you take many good things in the new year

I celebrated the start of my first Korean winter and the end of my first Korean semester by going home. As part of my contract I am only allowed to be in the U.S. for 14 days and I wondered whether the hours and money spent traveling would be worth it. However, I celebrated Christmas away from home once before, three years ago now, when I was studying abroad in the Netherlands. Three years ago when I met my dear friends from South Korea and three years ago when I said goodbye to all of them on New Years Day for what could have been the last time. It was a beautiful Christmas that year. I was staying with a friend in Vienna, had arrived with her in Vienna by night bus the morning of the 23rd. That day we went to every Christkindlmarkt in the city before traveling to her parent's house for Christmas Eve at their Catholic Church. Yet as lovely as it was I promised myself it would be the last Christmas I spent away from home.

That's why this year found me tucked away in St. Paul, sleeping, hanging ornaments, and helping my Dad prepare the Christmas pudding. My 14 days at home were entirely unexciting and in that way, quite perfect. I napped, drank tea, played cards and napped again. I was able to see some friends from high school and re-read The Golden Compass. It was all so peaceful I could hardly muster myself to leave. I had known that leaving again would be difficult. I was not prepared for the difficult happiness of returning, of hearing my host mother's voice on the phone in Incheon airport — "baliwa bogoshipo; hurry come, I miss you."

There are some moments, said Mrs. Dalloway, "exquisite moments...such as might stay a diver before plunging while the sea darkens and brightens beneath him." My brother has written a paper on Mrs. Dalloway, a book I have yet to read, but am starting now at his recommendation. I read his paper on the flight from Tokyo-Narita to Seoul-Incheon. It must have got me thinking because, sitting down on the provincial bus at 6:50 am, I felt such a moment as Mrs. Dalloway describes. Not as soon as I sat, but when, after beginning to move, the lights of the bus finally flickered off illuminating in the windows the dull-gray moving picture of the Korean countryside. I felt a sudden peace and excitement in the misty Han river, the blue glow of lights around the driver, the quiet breathing of passengers falling to sleep, and the warmth of the soles of my boots resting on the heater so that, though I have never understood people who prefer nighttime to the day, I hoped that the dawn might take its time.

The moment quoted from Mrs. Dalloway comes as said lady enters her house after buying flowers. For her also there is the sudden darkening of the world around her and below that the sense of the familiar. I had believed that my leaving Korea was a clear trade, that by seeing my family again I would make myself both happy and sad — happy at the time, but with a renewed sense of our distance on my return to Korea. I was unprepared to be accosted by a similar sense of joy in reuniting with the things that make up my Korea. Like Mrs. Dalloway entering her house, like someone in a suddenly darkened room I am discovering again what has become familiar, discovering the shape of my home in Korea. It is larger and more solid than I imagined — full of buses, phone calls, moments lost and moments gained.