Taipei Love: Guiyang Street

The weather yesterday was beautiful - one nice day out of 11 days (for me) off - so before some friends came over, we went to the Longshan Temple area to wander and take some photos on and around Guiyang Street.

Guiyang Street is one of my favorite overlooked streets in old Taipei - it's not as fancy or lengthy as Dihua Street nor as renovated and promoted as Bopiliao, but also usually not as crowded. It really only gets going once a year for 青山王's birthday festival  and otherwise a quiet, lovely place to take a quick stroll, see some old architecture, eat a few snacks, visit two historic temples and have a cup of coffee. The shophouses here aren't as "wealthy" as Dihua's, but that almost makes them more charming in their slightly decrepit way. My not-so-secret: deep down I was hoping I would have the chance to live in this area, and rent a renovated apartment in an old shophouse. That didn't happen - I ended up on the other side of the spectrum completely - but it really would be my Taipei dream come true.

Crab for sale!

First we wandered up Guangzhou Street, which is the non-touristy branch of the popular Huaxi Night Market (this part is often called Guangzhou St. Night market). At one end is Longshan Temple. Midway through you reach Huaxi Street, and if you keep going you'll hit Naruwan Indigenous People's Market and Xuehai Academy (also mentioned in the previous link). You'll also pass Mangka Gate  - worthy of a quick bite of history and also shown in a scene in the Taiwanese movie Monga. We had some food, did some people watching and walked north a bit.

I prefer the Guangzhou Street part of this market to Huaxi - the dingy, mostly-for-the-tourists sex shops (although the area does contain brothels) and mediocre food in the covered market keep me away, but Guangzhou Street is packed with good food, people to watch and interesting stuff to buy.

For Chinese New Year, the entire street was open during the day as it would be at night on other days -  rather like the area around Anping Fort outside Tainan. In fact the entire neighborhood was one big outdoor market that has been running for most of the week.

Shredded savory pancakes on Guangzhou Street

 Then, if you take Xiyuan Road north, up the left side of Longshan Temple (if coming from the MRT station), you'll pass lots of stores selling idols. Some are Buddhist, some are Dao/folk religion, some are for home shrines, other supplies are for actual temples. There's usually a bit of decent people-watching - and dog-watching - to do up this way as well.

I particularly like this one

One thing I really love about this neighborhood isn't just the old shophouses - it's the mid-century architecture of note (some of the stuff from that era is godawful - some is charming, though, and some give Taipei a special "look" that I really haven't seen in other Asian cities.

Other than living in a well-renovated shophouse, which is next to impossible (if not actually impossible) to pull off, though, living options in this colorful neighborhood tend to be run-down and cramped, and probably very much roach-infested (because the whole city is, and this area is a lot older and in many ways not well maintained). For example, I wouldn't want to live here and hang my clothes out to dry directly over a busy street, to pick up all sorts of grime and exhaust fumes:

 But then you make it up to Guiyang Street and more charming buildings come into view. I love this one and hope it can be more fully restored - the outside looks fine, but it seems to be unused, and possibly uninhabitable. I'd love to see that change - I've never seen any sign of life on the upper story, although there is some use made of the first floor.

Turn left and you reach Qingshan Temple - it is said that it was built here when settlers from Fujian carried Qingshan's idol up what is now Guiyang Street (it's that old, yo) and the idol suddenly grew heavy and immovable on that site. The carriers knew this was a sign that the Lord of Green Mountain wanted his temple placed there, so there they built it (interestingly, this story of idols becoming too heavy to move when they don't wish to be moved is not limited to China and Taiwan - Amitav Ghosh mentions similar stories in North Africa, the Middle East and India in his book, In An Antique Land, which I highly recommend).

I tell the story of Qingshan in the link to his birthday festival above.

Of course, these days kids just check their cell phones outside.

One thing I really love about this neighborhood is that it's not all shiny and perfect - that you get lovely little details such as these roof decorations on temples, right next to apartment buildings, many of which are older and downright ugly. There's a strangely pleasing contrast in that.

 Much of the ceiling work in this temple was put in without nails, by the way. Some master craftsmanship, that.

Some more photos of Qingshan Temple:

We didn't visit Qingshui Temple on this walk, because I actually sprained my ankle slightly at Qingshan, and we had to get back to Da'an to greet guests who were coming over (and who showed up five minutes early - a first for people I invite over). It's at the other end of this section of Guiyang Street and well worth a visit (photos in the link above, with some background and photos of Guiyang Street during festivals).

Guiyang Street is quite charming

Other than shophouse architecture and old temples, Guiyang Street is also home to an old incense shop, at least one Pu'er tea shop and a jade store. Many of the shops on this street are also historic, some dating back at least a century.

This is basically my dream apartment - maybe with nicer windows with wooden Chinese screens. It's hard to find something like this, though, to rent in Taipei.

Next door is a coffeeshop, kind of decrepit and ancient with an old cat (who may or may not still be alive) - tables for that shop and the street stand shown are positioned to take advantage of the pleasant street atmosphere. The coffee's dark and bitter, but the neighborhood makes up for it.

Walking back towards Longshan Temple MRT via Kangding Street, you pass a lot of this:

I feel like this is 50 years' worth of hardware, machinery and junk buildup. I have to wonder how long it would take to create something this dense and chaotic. It's almost like a modern art installation exploring neglect, hoarding, decrepitude, industrialism and chaos in the modern world.

Walking back this way you pass Bopiliao and, around New Year, a whole market full of stuff to eat and buy - something worth doing if you're in Taipei over Chinese New Year and want to get out and be around people.

Tsai Ying-wen Campaigns in Wanhua

Yeah, big surprise there, I know.

My friend Joseph, the man behind Taishun Street, shook her hand this week while he was there for the Qingshan Wang temple festival. He's got some pictures and commentary here.

In Defense of Taipei

Here’s my question.

And I write this as someone one month away from leaving her old-skool back-lane neighborhood and becoming a Da’an yuppie.

What the hell is up with all these folks who live outside Taipei who somehow think that “their Taiwan” is more real, is better, is somehow qualitatively a step above Taipei? What is so bad or wrong about Taipei?

I know these folks like to think of it as an easy-peasy expat cocoon, where you never have to work to hard, study Chinese too much or get your feet wet. I know that that can be true: it’s certainly possible to set yourself up nicely in a foreigner enclave like Tianmu or even Shida/Gongguan and not have to try too hard. It’s easy to spend your weekends on Anhe Road and make only other foreign friends.

But just because one can do that doesn’t mean that one actually does. Taipei is a Taiwanese city just like any other, even if it lacks some of the, what’s the word, ineffable cultural qualities of cities elsewhere in the country. It’s only “warm and safe” for foreigners here if you seek that out. If you don’t, you can live a life that is not, to be honest, all that much different from someone living elsewhere – except the case could be made that there’s more to do, and not all of it is touristy.

Take a look at my soon-to-be-erstwhile neighborhood, Jingmei. (By the way, regarding my last post, Lao Wu’s not dead. I clearly misunderstood the old ladies, although I was certain they said ‘她過了’ so I’m not sure how). What have we got? One local coffeeshop that plays The Carpenters and serves Japanese curry. A night market. Old folks who hang out outside and gossip. A stinky tofu/thin oyster noodle vendor. A chicken coop where they’ll even kill the chicken for you. A-Xiong’s “everything” store. A few 7-11s. A Wellcome. A breakfast restaurant that turns into a betel nut stand after dark across from an 按摩店. Old ladies and Vietnamese domestic workers who collect recycling when the trash truck comes. Guys who own the breakfast/etel nut shop outside in wife beaters and 藍白拖 drinking all sorts of local liquor at all hours, who always say hello and often give me a shot of Gaoliang. My neighbors are Taiwanese – most of them prefer to speak Taiwanese or Hakka, in fact – and none of them speak English. Most are too old to have learned it in school and those who did have mostly forgotten. I have to speak Chinese and integrate into the neighborhood like everyone else. No helpful English, no special stores, no special help, no swanky cafes.

I have my old lady gang, just like any self-respecting wannabe-obasan should. I have my local friends. I have the people I see every day and greet. In Chinese, if not Taiwanese.

How is this any different from a neighborhood where I might live in, say, Yunlin or Miaoli or wherever? How is it any easier or any more foreigner-friendly?

Sure, I have more work opportunities. I couldn’t do what I do anywhere else except possibly Hsinchu: not even Kaohsiung has the demand for it. In fact I’ve been sent to Kaohsiung for seminars because there is a demand, just not enough to sustain much local English corporate training business. I can and do avail myself of public transportation: besides my own driving limitations (I really don’t drive – I mean I know how, and I have a license, but I have very little experience and I’m not that good at it), I really feel that public transit is superior to private. It’s better for the environment and it’s more social.

It saddens me that Taiwan is not investing enough in both building and encouraging the use of public transportation. This does not make a Taipei-based expat inferior: I’d argue that it makes them more environmentally attuned. Yay for MRTs, boo for gas guzzlers and polluting scooters.

Yes, I can take that MRT to swankier bars – although compared to Istanbul, Taipei’s nightlife kind of sucks – and nice cafes, and I have more choice than elsewhere on the island, but an expat based in a Kaohsiung, Taizhong or Hsinchu can go to similar foreigner-friendly places. Sure, they don’t have Carnegie’s, but I don’t go to Carnegie’s. At most of my favorite spots - including Shake House and La Boheme, my two favorites – the beer is good but English is barely spoken.

Again, how does this make my life easier, less authentic or less “really in Taiwan” than if I were to live elsewhere?

Honestly, ride a bike through the lanes, talk to the shopkeepers and old folks outside socializing (a perennial favorite of mine). Go to the 100-kuai beer and seafood joints – I was quoted regarding them in the South China Morning Post not long ago, unfortunately the article is no longer online – go to Dihua Street or just wander Wanhua, Dadaocheng or Dalongdong. Go to Bao’an Temple (my personal favorite).

How is any of that not the real Taiwan? These are the places where I tend to hang out (what can I say, I like old urban stuff), and I can guarantee that by doing so, my life is not easier, more cosseted or more cocooned than someone living outside Taipei. I am not superior (although I am more environmentally friendly with no wheels!), but I am not inferior, either, and I’m sick of hearing it. I’m sorry, but Taipei is just as good as whatever town y’all live in, and it is not necessarily any easier to live here. It’s only easier if you let it be.

Finally, most of my local friends in Taipei are not from Taipei – with a few notable exceptions (I do have one friend who waxes rhapsodic on how he and his grandmother would go for oyster omelets by 圓環 in the ‘70s). They’re from Kaohsiung County, Nantou, Miaoli…they weren’t born here, but they’d balk at the idea that – while plenty of southerners call Taipei “台北國” – it’s not just as much “Taiwan” as any other part of Taiwan.

Glue Dots

While we were in the USA, we bought the materials necessary to make our wedding album in Taiwan. We knew that similar materials would be hard to find and likely more expensive here, even though photo printing is fantastically cheaper.

It's true, too: just try finding a nice, classy photo album that doesn't have pictures of cartoon dogs and cats and stars and babies and dodgy English ("Forever My Always Friend!") and fluffy clouds made with the spray-paint effect of a mid-90s version of MS Paint. Try finding an album that doesn't force you to fit in exact rows of regulation-size 4x6 photos in little slots with no room for sizing, spacing, tableau creation, artistic scrapbook-like additions (I'm not into scrapbooking per se and can't stand the little theme stickers, but the papers are nice and some elements of it work nicely in dedicated photo albums) or any sort of classy presentation. Muji sells a few versions but they're all very plain. A few souvenir shops sell pretty Chinese-style decorated ones, but inside it's all 4x6 photo slots, not blank paper.

And just try finding acid-free photo glue, glue tape or glue dots. They exist, but are frighteningly hard to come by. It seems that in Taiwan you either buy a cheap album covered in puppies and kittens and stick your photos in there, or you get pro photos made and the photographer prints up a book for you - standard for weddings and pictures of daughters in princess costumes and occasionally over-indulged Maltese dogs. Although DIY was a big thing in Taiwan several years ago, these days people just don't make their own fancy photo albums and they certainly don't DIY their wedding albums (we ran into the same issues DIYing our wedding invitations. Apparently nobody does that) - so the materials are hard to come by.

What's my point?

Well, we go into a photo store - you know, similar to one of the Konica ones with the blue sign - which prints photos, sells camera batteries, frames and photo albums with puppies and kittens on them, and a few with roses ("The love is our special bonding") and ask about acid-free glue to make a photo album.

After getting over the initial shock of the idea that two people would make their own wedding album, they said that they did not, in fact, carry such glue.

The thing I noted was that one of the women immediately got on the phone and called not one, but three - three - other stores to find a shop that sold such glue for us. First she was sure that there was a place in Shinkong Mitsukoshi that stocked it (no). Then that there was one "around Taipei Main" (yeah, just try walking around Taipei Main asking random people "Do you know where that store is that sells acid-free glue?") and finally she found it at 誠品.

Now, in the USA it wouldn't work this way. You'd drive to Michael's in your gas guzzler, wander the football-field sized cornucopia of DIY goodies (including whatever you need to make a cornucopia), find your acid-free glue dots in the scrapbooking section, and pay for them. You might not even talk to the cashier. Then you'd hop back in your car, possibly get lunch at Panera, and drive home.

In short: zero social interaction.


In Taiwan, this stuff is harder to find, you're never sure which store or even which kind of store carries what (ask me someday about finding leaf skeletons), and half the time it's just luck or knowing someone who knows where to get it.

But then you walk into a place like this one, in some random lane off Roosevelt Road, and the clerk really helps you, and you chat with her, and she tells you how she'd like to make photo albums too but the materials are so expensive, and you pet someone's dog, and she makes a few phone calls, and the next time you come in she recognizes you and asks you if you found the glue you needed.

This is one reason why I love living in Taiwan.

It's easy to get in the car and go to Michael's, but it's infinitely more rewarding to actually talk to people. Forget real glue dots for photos - these small interactions are figurative, social glue dots that form community.

I realize you can do this in many parts of the USA, but my experience has been that it's just not that common anymore, especially with the rise of suburbs and the patterns of interaction they create between people (ie, no interaction). What I find interesting is that my experience is the opposite of what you hear many Americans saying: you always hear about friendliness and everyone knowing everyone in small towns, and the meanness of big, scary anonymous cities. My small town was OK - not too friendly, not too unfriendly. I couldn't go to the pharmacy on Main Street and have the guy behind the counter know me by sight or name. You can go out and be warmly greeted, but not because people actually know you, and rarely because they remember you. Whereas in cities where I've lived, sure, if you leave your neighborhood you're anonymous but if you are doing anything - shopping, drinking coffee, taking a walk, waiting at a bus stop - people from your neighborhood know you, recognize you and greet you. I think this has everything to do with the fact that in those neighborhoods people got in their cars (if they even had cars) a lot less.

But I digress. I haven't felt the same warmth in the USA as I do in Taiwan, and I don't necessarily think it's just because I'm a foreigner (all those old townies and obasans who sit outside gossiping in their social circles, deeply embedded in their neighborhood community, are not foreigners). I don't think the owner of a store in the USA would be likely to call three other stores to help me find what I needed because she didn't sell it (maybe in some places they would - it just hasn't been my experience). I'm not at all sure that same owner would remember me the next time I came in (although that, in Taiwan, might well have a lot to do with my being a foreigner, especially living in a neighborhood with so few of them around).

Now, I'll end on a sad note. We're moving soon (in a month, in fact). We're not leaving Taiwan, just moving from Wenshan to Da'an, to a gorgeous refurbished apartment that we fell in love with on first viewing (wood floors! a dryer! a water filter! a bathtub! stucco walls! a tatami-floored tea alcove!). I've felt really great about changing apartments but also sad about leaving my little Jingmei enclave and saying goodbye to all the vendors, old folks, shop owners and various loiterers I greet daily. Sad about leaving my favorite night market and knowing the vendors who I buy dinner from. Sad about not occasionally waking up to the sounds of the chickens squawking from the chicken vendor one lane over.

Near my apartment is another residential building of roughly the same era (when everything that was built was ugly), with an awning and old chairs by the entrance. I used to sit outside and gossip with the old ladies who gathered there. The nexus - the glue dot - of this octogenarian (and older) clique was Old Wu, who lived on the 2nd floor and had a decrepit old dog named Mao Mao. He was killed when a scooter hit him a few years ago (I was very attached to Mao Mao and I did shed a few tears). Even if the other old ladies were out napping or taking care of grandchildren or wandering around, I would often sit outside with her, and pet Mao Mao when he was alive, and shoot the breeze. Even when that breeze was the first hint of a typhoon blowing in.

Her health was deteriorating before we left for Turkey. I noticed that the glue was coming a bit loose: the old ladies no longer met under the awning, what with Old Wu in the hospital and not there to hold court. They moved to the temple goods store (you know, gold paper lotus offerings, incense etc.) next to Ah-Xiong's shop. I joined them there a few times, but there aren't enough chairs and it's too close to the chickens, which, frankly, stink.

I knew that Old Wu didn't have long, but I didn't think I'd never see her again. I guess I figured, those ladies are pretty tough, and most of them are surprisingly ancient. Old Taiwanese ladies never die, right?

Well, she succumbed to her poor health and passed away while we were in Turkey. I only found out when we got back, and suddenly those empty old chairs were a lot sadder, now that I knew their unsat-in condition was no longer temporary. I cried a fair bit on the way back up to my apartment and was extra winded when I got to the top from doing so (another reason to move: six floor walkup in this place. No more).

Old Wu was my glue dot in Jingmei. She and her group, whose ages totaled must have topped 500, made me feel welcome, like I was part of a community. I didn't feel like a foreigner, a novelty or something strange or different. They'd seen a lot in their lives (a lot - anyone that age in Asia has) and a young foreign girl was really nothing chart-topping. They just accepted me as another part of their life experience (and also told me all about my husband's arm hair and how many kids we should have, but that's another story).

I don't believe in signs. I really don't - but if I did, a case could be made that the end of an era has come and it's time to leave Jingmei - not because Old Wu passed on (I'm not so self-centered as to believe that the universe killed an old lady just to tell me to move!) but because my old lady gossip circle is no more, and because it's just different now. I feel released, pulled off a page, and it's time to find a new glue dot and adhere somewhere else for awhile...even if that somewhere else is technically just up the road.

Already Campaigning

Tsai Ying-wen is already starting her campaign for the 2012 presidency, even though we're still not entirely sure who else is running.

This poster appears at the intersection of Nanjing and Dihua Streets in Dadaocheng, which is one of the stronger support bases that the DPP has in Taipei. Around her are several people I've never heard of, one of them appearing on a poster with Chen Chu, and DPP campaigners are already coming through Dihua Street regularly waving banners and making noise - as one does, of course.

I'm amused by the pink lettering, the cute font used on "2012" (looks better than the London Olympics logo anyway) and the self-reference as "Little Ying".

Aww. 好可愛呵!

Bopiliao

Some old advertisements pasted up on one of the walls along Bopiliao

On Saturday, as a side trip to our planned visit to Naruwan Indigenous People's Market (good food and good coffee), we stopped by Bopiliao - a newly restored segment of Qing Dynasty and Japanese era architecture in the historic Wanhua district. Bopiliao is basically a segment of intact Japanese-era shophouses, and behind that an alley of older, one-story late Qing shopfronts which have been turned into an exhibition space with a lot to interest kids (at least, kids who speak Chinese).

To get there, take the MRT to Longshan Temple. You can use any exit, but the easiest way is to head to Guangzhou Street - cross the street to Longshan Temple itself but turn right instead of entering (walking away from Huaxi Street Night Market). Walk past all the shops - this is also a nice area in which to look at cool old buildings - and you'll eventually come to the intersection of Kunming and Guangzhou. You'll notice that around here there are entire sections of shophouses - walk along those until you see an entrance to the inside, which will be directly next to the largest house on the end, which is a children's museum/history learning center.

Alternately you can exit at Longshan Temple's Heping W. Road exit, turn right, pass Sanshui Street and then turn on Guangzhou.

The section of old shophouse facades from Guangzhou Street

This is a lovely, atmospheric place to wander if you're in the neighborhood - perhaps sightseeing at Longshan Temple, but it's too early to head to the night market or dinner (for the record, I recommend the food in the night market along Guangzhou Street but don't bother with the food in the covered market along Huaxi Street unless you are dead set on trying snake - which I have).

The alley behind the shopfronts - main part of Bopiliao

The large building at the end - the only one open to the main street - houses a children's activity area on the first floor - kids can watch cartoons of George Leslie Mackay, James Maxwell and David Landsborough talking about bringing modern medicine to Taiwan. You can also see displays on "your grandfather's Taiwan" and learn about Lu A-Chang, a local doctor who also contributed quite a bit to the development of medicine in Taiwan.

The best exhibit? Clearly the one where you can pick up the receiver of a rotary phone to hear stories about old Taipei - the highlight is watching kids look at the old black phones like they're a relic of deepest, darkest history!

Upstairs there are more exhibits on medicine in Taiwan, mostly in Chinese.

The center is free to enter, but closes at 5pm.

It's a nice place to wander a bit, if only to see the inside of an old brick house, but it would be even better if there was English language signage so that tourists with kids would have it as an educational and kid-friendly choice for their non-Chinese speaking children.

Out back you can also play several easy, old-fashioned children's games, such as old-fashioned pinball:

I am completely in love with the old-skool robots.

...or "fish for the glass bottle" or that stick-and-hoop game:

After that - a pretty quick walkthrough if you don't have kids, don't speak Chinese and aren't fascinated by vintage robots (which I totally am because robots are awesome) - you can head into Bopiliao itself.

The entrance has a plaque in English and Chinese signed by "Dr. Hau Lung-bin". Apparently he really is a doctor (I didn't believe it so I looked it up), despite looking like a Muppet. Oh well, never judge a book by its cover. Apparently he has a PhD in Food Science from UMass-Amherst. Either he got into a PhD program because his father pulled some strings, or he's a genuinely smart guy who would have been a fantastic food scientist - but is just not that good at being a politician (although he keeps winning despite giving off the impression that he's all cotton between the ears). You know how sometimes being in the wrong vocation can make a person seem less motivated or intelligent than they really are? (I would know - I worked in back-office finance and probably seemed to others as about half as quick as I truly am because it was the wrong career for me).

Maybe - just maybe - if he'd stayed a food scientist and his company had hired me as his English trainer, Id've come home after class praising my clever, brilliant, insightful and intelligent student, Dr. Hau.

Or not.

Anyway, just thought I'd share.

Buildings are marked at the front with what they used to house - a tea shop, a barber etc. - and are now exhibition spaces. Most excitingly for foreigners interested in Taiwanese cinema is the room housing sets from the movie "Monga". This is also one of the areas where some of the signage is in English, and if you've seen the movie, you can appreciate it regardless. It is not clear if the scenes were actually shot here or the set was relocated here.

You may remember this set from the film

Nearby is the Daoist shrine where the young brothers prayed, the seating area where the older gangsters would congregate and displays of clothing and weapons from the movie, which I saw without subtitles and could only barely follow.

Not everything was open, but some of the storefronts looked authentically well-restored:

...but others didn't:

I'm glad they saved that Qing Dynasty painting of Astroboy.

The next section of the exhibit focused on famous artists of Taiwan, including an area dedicated to an old guy who makes heads for lion dancer costumes:

...as well as a Taiwanese opera singer, two puppetry masters and a few other people. This was entirely in Chinese so while it was fun to look at, there was nothing to keep us lingering.

The final few shopfronts are exhibits on naming statistics in Taiwan. Did you know that the largest percentage of Taiwanese people are surnamed Chen, with the next highest being Lin?! Wow, that was so totally unexpected! Heh. They also had breakdowns from census data on given names - I found a lot of my friends' names, but neither mine (白蓮) nor Brendan's (百川) were there - probably because nobody actually names their kid White Lotus, and Brendan's name, though much more common, is a bit old and stodgy - it's like the "Harold" of Chinese names.

What was interesting was that throughout each list of Top 50 names, male and female, girls with the most common names were consistently about twice as plentiful as boys. The top name for a girl (淑芬) - Shufen or "refined and pure with a sweet smell" - clocked in at about 33,500 girls in 2010, whereas the top boy's name (志明) - Zhiming or "bright aspiration" only came in at 14,200 or so.

First, I'm not such a fan of the boys getting names reminsicent of willpower, strength, learning and brightness whereas women get a lot of grace, purity, sweetness, quietude, demureness etc., but hey, I guess that's how traditional cultures go. If we ever have a kid (not saying we will!) she's getting a Chinese name that means "Fierce Warrior Dragon Princess Who Kicks Ass" or something!

Second, clearly there is a greater variety of boys' names out there, with a longer statistical tail: either that or twice as many girls were born as boys in 2010 (yeah...no). So we can conclude that families who have sons have about twice the number of common given names to choose from than families who have daughters - of course with the stroke order, elements, fortune teller etc. issues to deal with, nobody really has that much choice if they follow traditional mores.

A cool old advertisement on a wall in Bopiliao - I like the "Scientific Headcooler" ad.

The verdict? Bopiliao is worth a visit if you are in the area, and great if you have kids who can speak Chinese or are interested in 19th and turn-of-the-century architecture.

Otherwise, the tourism department needs to do a few things to generate more interest in the area. My suggestions:

1.) English signage please - it'll get foreigners interested in Taipei history to linger and help us learn more; and

2.) The exhibits are nice, but stick a coffeeshop, teahouse, restaurant, even a few snack or souvenir shops in there so we can linger and enjoy the atmosphere.

Nancy Coffee

I have a new favorite place. Located just south of Nanjing West Road on a lopsided intersection of Tianshui Street, near Huating Street and some random lane, Nancy Coffee and Snacks looks as though it’s been frozen in time in pieces between the 1920s (with its dark wood lined, art deco windows and Depression Yellow glasses) and the 1970s (with its retro burnt auburn faux-leather chairs and equally worse-for-wear tables).

I love the view from those vintage windows. I love the funky mid-century light fixture that forms a starburst of light on the ceiling, and the hanging birdcage lamps in one corner. I love the horrible brown-rug creaky floor and the old wood post room divider that reminds me, for some reason, of the first house I lived in (even though it did not have such a divider). I love the old folks who look like they live in the corner, covered in cobwebs, and the wall-installed HDTV they watch. I love the hideous art on the walls.

I love how the counter is about two feet high, horrible brown Formica (I think – I missed Formica’s boom years) with two hairsprayed women who are clearly more comfortable with the dips and twangs of Taiwanese than dry, proper Mandarin.

I love how the Cheese, Ham and Egg sandwich is exactly what it says it is and the coffee comes in small cups but makes your heart race. I love that it’s bitter but it’s not that Starbucks burnt bitter that forces you to add sugar. I like how they don’t have wireless access (though I wish they did).

I love the neighborhood – whatever you need you can find it in the bylanes and backalleys of Nanjing West Road. I love the store that sells widgets and the other that sells dingbats. I love the rows and rows of chemical lab supply shops and apothecary jar stores (I love that the pharmacies in this neighborhood still use apothecary jars). I love the old scraggly dude who sells sausages, and the old scraggly lady who naps in a folding chair under the monolithic temple – really a glorified gate – across the street from the 2/28 marker (the 2/28 incident began near here). I love the shops that sell baubles and crystals, and how every kind of fabric and jewelry supply is available. All those hoo-hoos and whatchits you see in the USA and have no idea where they come from are sold here, except they’re not attached to any coats, briefcases or handbags. I love how next to those stores are other stores that sell pressed fish eggs and shark jaw. I love how some of the stores are so old that their signs are crumbling, and some of the proprietors are as crumbly as the signs.

So, I love Nancy Coffee and Snacks. I think it might be my new favorite place on Earth. Bad lighting, strong coffee, stained walls, wobbly tables and all. I hope it never changes.

Obasan - Reason #5 to love Taiwan

I've decided - regardless of whether we move back to the USA or not, when we grow old, I want to return to Taiwan.

My old dream was to buy the Lishan Bingguan off the government and restore it, opening parts to the public and keeping part as our personal villa.

But that's not really necessary. I just want to return to Taiwan when I'm ancient, period.

As any of you based in Taipei know, the weather was absolutely horrid all weekend. In the mornings it looked like - as one of my coworkers put it - Gotham City, and it was chilly, dusty and drizzly without end.

Of course on Friday and today, two work days, the weather has been gorgeous (today is OK, Friday was spectacular).

So I head to my weekly dermatology appointment - cheap, accessible cosmetic medicine! I love Taiwan! - I realize that while I have to go to work later, the obasan (the old ladies who live in the lanes and spend their days sitting outside chatting) are all out, with their ancient dogs on their ancient chairs in their unfashionable clothes, enjoying the good weather.

In most American towns, you can't just pull up a chair outside your apartment building and form a chattering group of pensioners. In the suburbs you don't even live in apartments, and sitting quietly on your own porch gets old. But here, it's perfectly normal. More common in Kaohsiung, but it does happen in Taipei.

So my goal in life is to enjoy traveling and doing work I love while I'm young, and when we get old, we'll get a nice little apartment in the lanes of Taipei, wear dreadful clothing outdated by 50 years and bought at the outdoor market and cloth kung-fu shoes, and hobble down each morning to yak it up with neighbors. When I need to travel, I get my younger relatives to help and I can elbow people with impunity on the MRT and buses.

Sounds lovely.

If I could be an obasan now, I would. Sometimes I act like them; my dress style totally ignores fashion trends. Due to the nature of my job, on some days I don't have to go to work until evening, or I'm done by 2pm. On those days I am quite likely to sit with the old folks outside the building they gather at. They still chat in Taiwanese to each other, but are polite enough to include me by speaking to me in Chinese.

Oh wait. I already wear old lady cloth shoes, too. They're the only women's shoes in Taiwan that fit me and, when worn with pants, are vaguely acceptable in the office.

My transformation has begun!

Things You Never Knew Until You Looked

We decided to spend the day - sun! Finally! - lolling about Dihua Street and looking at the puppetry (bu dai xi) museum one block over (coming from Nanjing E. Road, turn left at Xiahai temple on Dihua and it's at the end of the lane on the right).

Afterwards we got shaved ice at the old-skool place under the old Dihua market facade; the famous one with only three flavors of ice - red bean, green bean and almond - and coffee around the corner. That's when I noticed that the ugly newer building behind the old market facade had businesses in it! I'd assumed it was closed because the only other time I looked, it seemed abandoned.

The only market I knew about was the fairly small one that doesn't seem to be connected to this one, also with lots of fabric vendors, but including fruit, meat and religious item stores as well.

It's not abandoned - the inside is a massive fabric, clothing making, alterations and clothing accessory/bead/feather/ribbon/string market. You can buy any cloth imaginable - from silver tutu fluff to elaborate Chinese silk to fake black fur with white fur hearts on it to old-fashioned floral-print cottons. You can get the cloth made into almost anything, or get old clothes altered or repaired.

And to think - I used to believe that the best way to shop for fabric at Dihua Street (well-known among locals and in guidebooks as a mecca for cloth) was to go into each separate store and vet their inventory!