Taipei microcosms

冰淇淋 (Bīngqílín) Ice Cream
Above the city in a rooftop apartment bereft of air conditioning, a familiar trickle on my neck serves as a constant reminder that it is water I must drink. The water is not chilled and cannot be in this makeshift abode. It is saturated by the heat, like my body, like my mind. But then, through the fan – could it be? – the familiar jingle! Out on the street, the sine waves resonate off the buildings, closer, closer to the foot of my staircase. This truck plays a haunting Beethoven, but my heart leaps for joy as I imagine the goods inside. Mint Chocolate Chip? Klondike Bars? Perhaps a refreshing mango ice? The cold delicacies demand little interest in a cold Michigan, but this, now, is irresistible. The music approaches and, slipping on my sneakers, I move to meet the truck. It is horror – a cruel joke – as I irrupt from the building, met by young, old, short and tall, and an unpleasant stench. All await a deposit as these citizens follow the sound of the garbage truck at the appointed time with their household waste. They hide it well, but they are amused at the American who was expecting something different.

走路 (Zǒulù) Walk
The small walking man that accompanies the countdown at every pedestrian crossing actually speeds up with 6 seconds left. Watch him go.

洗手間 （Xǐshǒujiān）Bathroom
I have not used a bathroom in Taiwan that kept the toilet paper for the toilet. Each room in the city, it seems, comes equipped with its own small trash can, meant for depositing the tissue and the excess waste it carries. I followed suit once, on my first day, but could hardly fathom the thought: how many days’ shit does this hold? I have flushed henceforth, excepting a few instances in which exorbitant wiping was necessary. No clogging has occurred at the scene, although I do worry I’ve incited an unseen uprising elsewhere. A Taiwanese friend explains, “most people in Taipei just think it will clog the toilet.” Most public restrooms also come supplied with a small bath for infants. Or else a sort of janitorial washing sink for a wet mop – but why do I have access? A squat toilet? An unprepared mind meets a poop hole.

愛（Ài）Love
Pulse leaps and stills. A lingering bliss ferments minute by minute into fresh realization and an ache of commensurate agony. The unrequited hope is familiar; the bliss was not. Myriad thoughts vie for consideration; what please was it that turned away your affection? Or did you even mean the words you spoke with such peculiar thrift? Perhaps they were only a part of the tapestry you wove, the hammock like a warm womb that unraveled in minutes above the ice of your absence in a day forever.

捷運（Jié yùn）MRT
Consume nothing and chew no gum on the MRT (mass rapid transit), i.e., subway.

摩托车 (Mótuō chē) Scooters
Scooters like bees swarm the streets and sidewalks, passing the people, weaving amongst the cars. These lawless, helmeted creatures buzz and soar, traveling in large numbers – and no place is beyond their grasp. Walking across an intersection near Taipei City Hall on my first day in the city, I suppress a howl at the sight: sexy twinks in leather pants, waitresses, and mothers in bonnets all wait in a box, looking forward, faces blank, balancing their motorcycles in perfect seriousness. A month’s time and three (terrifying, or else exhilarating) rides later, the surprise has abated. But the memory of delight revisits from time to time, and I want to live here someday, in this place, with a scooter of my own.

Useful Chinese
冰淇淋 (Bīngqílín) Ice Cream
走路 (Zǒulù) Walk
洗手間（Xǐshǒujiān）Bathroom
愛（Ài）Love
捷運（Jié yùn）MRT
摩托车 (Mótuō chē) Scooters