哎呀， this blog keeps eating my posts, so I certainly hope that this post sticks!

Although its been a few weeks since my return from the beautiful city of Taipei (and the crippling jet lag that followed), I still think of my experiences on a nearly daily basis. While a countless number of Taiwan's cultural aspects left deep and lasting impressions on me, I have found that those which I can come nowhere near recreating are those which I miss the most. Sure, I can and often do attempt to recreate Taiwanese cuisine (a process which frequently ends in failure...) and listen to the Taiwanese music that I bought while traveling. Furthermore, don't get me wrong, my American friends' reactions to tasting the unusually strong and spicy Xylitol-infused gum which is nearly exclusive to Asia are priceless ("Oh, oh. My sinuses!"). These small things allow me to continue to relive the indescribable time I had in Taiwan, but cannot compare to the beauty and warmth of Taiwanese culture which one can only experience when completely immersed.

Of all my experiences in Taiwan, I was most taken by Taipei's night market culture and the very human experience I had taking a trip to some hot springs.

I'll start with the night markets, then. Sure, I've been to night markets on the mainland before, and I realize that they are by no means exclusive to Taiwan. However, the Shida night market near the dormitories in which we were staying had an entirely unique feel in comparison to any other night market I'd ever been to. Being rather tall, rather blonde, and rather fair, I usually attract a fair amount of attention in the night markets, a fact which results in a lot of vendors hollering "Hey lady!" at me and following me down the street while enthusiastically waving their products in the air (a habit that is particularly menacing when you are being followed by a sword vendor..); transactions tend to transpire almost exclusively on a calculator with little time for more than cold, clinical digits. Don't get me wrong, I love these night markets, too. However, they don't have the same personal dimension that captivated me in the Shida market.

Wandering around Shida, every vendor which I approached proved loquacious, inquisitive, and extremely friendly; I never finished a transaction before learning something interesting about the person selling to me, and in return telling them a bit about myself. I think I know what you're thinking at this point, being a cynic myself. Here, let me guess. "Of course they hammed up a gawky Caucasian wandering around their market! Tourists always bring a lot of money, this human aspect surely amounts only to a business strategy." At first, I thought so, too! However, I had plenty of interesting conversations with vendors who I came nowhere close to buying from, and I never experienced impatience or pressure to buy from these individuals. Even more interestingly to me, upon returning to Shida, many of the vendors recognized me and made a point to say hello and initiate further conversation (which very often did not even approach the subject of business, nevermind lead to any additional purchases). Of all the individuals I spoke to, I was most touched by a rice porridge vendor who I ordered from in one of my first nights in Shida, and who would subsequently wave to me each night I passed, or unobtrusively poke my shoulder and make a strange face at me. This special level of personal connection in even a business environment can hardly be experienced elsewhere, and I believe it really encapsulates uniquely warm attitude of most 台北人 I ran into while overseas.

This is just a taste of what I have to say, and I look forward to posting more, but right now I have to go pack, because I'm moving into my apartment in a little over a day (!!!!!!!). 再见 for now!