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!