🌳 So, I'm just allowed to go to Taiwan for fun?
To me, part of growing up is realizing how much you're simply allowed to do. All of a sudden, I can just look at my bucket list and say, "let's do that one!" If I wanted to join a club skydiving trip and shorten my bucket list this weekend, I could just go—I don't need to ask anybody for permission. And yes, I do appreciate that I'm fortunate enough to have this freedom.
Going to Taiwan
In high school, I studied Mandarin for four years—and I've become reasonably fluent. After graduating high school, I once had a conversation with a Chinese tourist while planespotting at SFO—but that was about it. However, outside very few interactions, I never had a chance to really use my Mandarin skills.
For the longest time, I thought that wasn't enough of an excuse to drop hundreds of dollars, fly halfway across the world, and spend just a week in Taiwan. Before this trip, I've only left the US to visit relatives in India (and spend a few days exploring Singapore or Hong Kong along the way).
So it took me until last summer to book a spring break trip to Taiwan. And it was one of my best uses of money and free will. The people were incredibly kind and helpful, the scenery was beautiful, and I got to make wonderful memories with some of my closest friends. It wasn't a perfect trip by any means—I was exhausted by the end—but it was incredibly worthwhile.
We explored Taipei for a few days, trying the food at hole-in-the-wall breakfast shops, night market stalls, and upscale restaurants. We also made a couple day trips to the Tamsui and Jiufen old streets. We then took the high-speed rail to Chiayi and made our way to Alishan. The Alishan national park was incredible, with cherry blossoms and perfect weather in late March. We then spent our last few days in Kaohsiung and back in Taipei.
But many of my favorite parts weren't the famous sights or monuments. They were the in-between: talking with locals at small restaurants, sipping warm soymilk, and running to FamilyMart for bottles of cold barley tea. This trip was a first taste, and I'd love to go back. If I had the option, I'd spend a few months living in Taiwan to slowly absorb a little more of everything.
Takeaways
sonder (uncountable)
- (neologism) The profound feeling of realizing that everyone, including strangers passing in the street, has a life as complex as one's own, which they are constantly living despite one's personal lack of awareness of it. Wiktionary
I realize this every time I travel abroad: everyone around me is living an equally rich, yet completely different, life. The night market vendors worry about completely different things than I do. So do the bus drivers, evening commuters, and 7am patrons at the soymilk shop. This isn't a particularly surprising revelation. Of course I know that people live completely different lives—even here at home. But something about traveling abroad makes me feel and internalize it. Maybe it's the novelty?
But in many other ways, we're not that different. I remember walking into vegetarian buffet restaurants, where the (mostly elderly) patrons saw my slightly confused face and happily helped me figure out the process of getting my food. I remember the kind waitress in a Kaohsiung restaurant who excitedly recommended dishes to us, running to get multiple menus and show us what they looked like. I also remember the enthusiastic Buddhist monks who recommended an excellent vegetarian restaurant in Taipei (the best food I had on the trip). I also remember the worker at a pineapple cake store, who joyfully told us about her favorite spots in Taipei. We all like to explore, eat good food, and connect with other people.
Again—these weren't particularly surprising revelations. I've been abroad before, but something about traveling alone in a country that doesn't speak my native language helped me internalize them. We grew up on different sides of the world, but somehow, I feel like we're at essence all the same.
