lunch in taipei.
every morning in taipei started with the same understood priority, the same frenzied mentality, the same shameless need- get pork buns. of course this task was quickly followed on our mental itinerary by “check out hidden taiwanese morning market” and “visit taipei memorial hall” or “hike up to breathtaking view of skyline at elephant park” and “stroll around xinyi district” “share bottle of wine to get the nerve to check out taipei 101.” but first, always, the pork buns.
and somehow, during the first few hours of this particular afternoon, the pork buns had eluded us and we found ourselves ravenous and panicked, searching around the university neighborhood of taipei, an area presumably ripe both with fresh knowledge and cheap street food, trying to find the buns. we knew what to look for- a constantly billowing steam cloud, incessant flow of people, sticky array of communal sauce bottles. smiling, grease-shimmered mouths.
and while we knew we must be getting close, against our will, something else to tempted us away from our noble mission. we passed a crowded restaurant of communal tables all centered around one big smorgasbord of dishes. we stepped in to get a closer look and what we saw from the street nearly multiplied before our eyes- a buffet of foreign delicacies, an array of dishes in nearly every color of the rainbow, a beautiful smattering of what we only assumed to be edible based on the context clues- hungry people, stacked plates, used chopsticks and inviting tables, yet hardly anything in front of us was identifiable. and so armed each with our own set of tongs and a temporarily empty plate, we began to paint our canvases and satiate our curiosity with one of nearly everything. we divided and conquered- a purple and black rice sushi roll, an array of what must be mushrooms in shapes that i didn’t know mushrooms could be, wrinkly dumplings filled with surprises, a lilac rice krispie treat ball, slimy purple jello bean pie, a flauta-like yum-yum, small elephant ears with boysenberries… and general tso’s chicken? they have that here?
we squeezed into a communal table and began sampling our findings. after each bite, the conversation was the same- “mmm, this is good!” “oh, what is it!” “i have no idea!” “oh. this is good too!” “ah, what is it?” “i dont’ know!” we ate and laughed and made ridiculous guesses at what we had in front of and now inside of us.
we were sitting across from a Taiwanese girl who sat and ate her food slowly, deliberately, not making eye contact with us. she kept her head down, took small, slow bites and often looked up at us inquisitively. I thought maybe she was sick, or that something was wrong- her behavior felt off and it made me feel sad and a little ashamed at the way we were acting. it was then that i became acutely aware of our blatant american-ness- both wearing cutoff shorts, too-loose tank tops (a product of the relentless humidity), with long messy hair and loud laughter and evident wastefulness- we had two trays completely covered with a bit of every single food they had on the buffet, and i had no qualms about not finishing the purple jello bean pie.
we continued to sample and giggle and guess what we possibly could be eating, but i couldn’t help but feel both sad for and ashamed in front of the girl at our table. i wished i could ask if she was ok.
finally she slowly raised her head to meet our gaze and pointed to a purple object on my plate. “taro root” she said, and looked at us nervously. we both looked up and stopped, mid-chew of whatever substance was in our mouths. she quickly put her head down again, and then said “mushroom,” pointing to another completely unidentifiable substance on our plates. “mushroom?” i asked, pointing to what was certainly a pork substance… she smiled at my confusion and then pulled her phone up from her lap and began pointing to items on our trays and attempting to pronounce each one in english. “tofu cake” “mashed potato dumpling” “soy braised rice cake” “pickled squash” “this, something very good for woman”
as it turned out, only half of the things i knew for a fact were mushrooms were actually mushrooms, and when i pointed and referred to the “fried chicken” with confidence, she shook her head and smiled and said “mashed potato dumpling”- “everything here vegetarian” she told us. and that made us laugh even harder, pointing out to her all of the things we thought were meat. “i know you did,” she said, laughing with us.
and this very experience was so emblematic of the culture in taiwan. that truly nothing in this country is what meets the eye- there is a palpable and clandestine story, an ancient complexity that is only discovered if you look hard enough, shedding your own preconceived notions along with your interpretation of what meets the eye.
so many things that i thought i understood i didn’t at all. so much of the culture you saw was simply the tip of the iceberg, and slowly the rest of it was revealed to you, if you earned it, in beautiful. complex layers.
and this, of course, is the very reason why we travel– to have our understanding and perspective completely turned upside down. to eat things that we’ve never eaten and can’t identify and fearlessly bite and chew and swallow and give a hesitant thumbs up to the street chef. to be so surprised by the often unexpected kind and thoughtful nature of humans that transcends language and cultural boundaries. to realize that mushrooms are not always mushrooms, that general tso’s chicken, thank god, it seems remains within the boundaries of shitty suburban strip malls. and that people are usually so, so lovely.
to be completely and utterly surprised by humanity beyond our own understanding. that is why we travel.
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