Food makes the trip.

- I must have had about 5 bubble teas -no fancy flavours, just classic milk tea with tapioca pearls. Perfect.

- Woolong tea: it's layered aroma, the calm that comes with its preparation, and the sweet aftertaste of its warm bitterness...I think I may have found a new sedative.

- Street food at the night markets were a feast for all senses, I honestly believe they are an art in their own right.

- Who can forget the sticks of candied pears, tomatoes and strawberries. Just like gemstones.

- The Turkish ice-cream man will always stand out as the most bizarre and amazing addition to the partially international gastronomic scene.

- Strangest dish was hands down 阿给 ("ah gei") -tofu stuffed with vermicelli and some kind of seafood, in a pinkish soup. Can't say I loved it but it wins points for the never-seen-or-heard-of factor.

- Pork as the primary default meat was unfortunate for my Muslim friends....but oh, such bliss and comfort for me.

- We do rice right.

Music makes the trip.

I have been playing this horrid piece of catchy trash (and loving it) non-stop since I got back. The romantic in me didn't have any control over the soundtrack that would accompany and define my time in Taiwan. I didn't bring my mp3 player (yes I am one of the few who still don't own an iPod) because my only pair of earphones broke ages ago and I didn't have time to buy new ones. Basically, this left the door open to Other People's Music and well....spawns of garbage like the above.

Tik Tok became somewhat of an inside joke due to one guy's obsession with it. Funny thing is we didn't even listen to it all that much during our laptop parties in the hotel. All we knew and kept quoting was the first line, "Wake up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy." No kidding, I woke up with that line in my head a number of mornings. Wishful thinking perhaps. We went clubbing our last night in the city, and of course requested the song. It didn't come on until the very moment we were leaving. It was one of those great coincidences and needless to say we danced our way out the exit.

This other girl on the trip was really into Japanese and Korean pop, and we were all familiar with this song....of course, it comes up in the club accompanied by a live act of pretty girls with bobs and mod dresses, and much singing along and clapping ensued. Next day on the bus after Wong Professor said bye to us we spontaneously burst into the chorus as a tribute to him. Classic moment. P.S, the guys are so fruity they could be a spinoff Wonderboys band.

Picture this: seven of us drunk off vodka in a karaoke lounge, singing in faux French accents and swaying in time to the music. Sure, there were other classic moments with Lady Gaga and the Backstreet Boys -Summer Nights was a highlight as well. But this cheeseball of a song was what we were stuck with when they cut us off at the one hour limit. And in a way, it was a perfect ending to a night of camaraderie and camp. I don't think I will ever hear this song and not think of Taiwan and for that, it holds a special place in my cold heart.

The little things.

Our tables at breakfast, the coffee, congee, the (lack of) red bean buns.

The fact that I had my own room and bathroom and could strip down to my underwear after a long day, take a shower with the door open and have music playing outside.

Laptop parties in the only room that had free wireless.

Late night walks, beers, and chats.

The "Friends" bus which became a second home.

Bubble tea.

Chinese tea as a substitute for water.

Pedestrian lights with their funny walking green men and countdowns from 80 seconds.

Swarms of motorbikes.

Alleyways.

The closeness of mountains to the city.

After more than a week of wearing suits and skirts and being catered to decadent food......I am now sitting in sweatpants and a hoodie, and just had canned soup for dinner. I hope the parallel me in my alternate Taipei life is still having fun. Heck, I even miss the hotel room pillow that I buried my exhausted head into every night.

recapturing

Until I deal with one more exam, unpacking and cleaning up the blackhole mess that is my room, my recollections of Taiwan will have to be incremental. But so long as I'm procrastinating, I may as well be writing here.

I got back at 8am. Everyone in the house was asleep; I sat around in an unreal state of mind for an hour then went to sleep until 3pm. I drifted in and out to the sound of people talking and laughing in the kitchen. At one point I was awake enough to probably get out of bed but I couldn't bear the thought of walking out to greet everyone, hug them, be bombarded with questions and etc. I know that sounds rather rude, but I allow me to stew in my withdrawal.

What can I say besides the usual 'amazing, incredible, blahblah' when asked by people how it was? It is so insufficient in conveying anything. I could rail off all the things I saw, ate, all the people I met, the meetings I went to, I could even say how blessed and moved I felt at times, how much I tried to soak in every moment and how at times my heart was bursting with peace or ambition....I could say all that and it would only make me feel like a rambling, insincere idiot. I know my friends will be happy for me, I know they won't mind me going on and on about this and that, I know they will look at my pictures.... but it's not enough for me. I have already spent the entire day thinking about and trying not to think about the past week. There are certain things that I will never be able to express properly in a normal conversation, but I can try my best to form a narrative here. Writing in hindsight is perhaps one of the most challenging but interesting mediums of self-reflection -not only is it an exercise of memory, it is an inquiry into representation. After years and years of journaling, of feeling both liberated and trapped by the act of documenting my own story, of going around in circles about whether I am remembering or refashioning, I think I have come to terms with the precariousness and fluidity of being "honest." Things happen point blank. What's true and real comes out through reorganisation and interpretation....and depending on the moment you choose to do that, you can end up with multiple and contradicting versions of the same experience. And if the present is constantly remoulding the past then the stories are endless and it means I can relive Taiwan endlessly at the same time that it inevitably fades. And that's good and sad to know.

A lifechanging trip?

Just maybe.

Fuck yes.

This girl from HK is going to Taiwan.