What I've been up to with my writing

I don't blog quite as often as I used to, but that doesn't mean I'm not writing. I thought I'd add a post with a general redux of what I've been publishing elsewhere...y'know, in case anyone cares. 

Most importantly, I urge everyone to check out this feature in the Taipei Times. Despite same-sex marriage being legal since 2019, some same-sex international couples -- that is, a foreigner married to a Taiwanese person -- are struggling to obtain Taiwanese citizenship for their children. It's the subject of at least one lawsuit against the Ministry of the Interior, as you'll read in my interview with one of the plaintiffs. 

Despite equality being enshrined in the constitution, and access to some (but not all) equal rights being extended to same-sex couples in Taiwan, true equality remains elusive. I sincerely hope this lawsuit will change that, and that the issue gets the attention it deserves. 

Speaking of citizenship rights, I also wrote something for Ketagalan Media on an initiative by Crossroads Taiwan asking the government to provide a reasonable path to dual nationality for permanent residents in Taiwan. There's even a petition, and although the interface can be challenging, I ask that you not only sign, but share it widely. As someone who considers herself a 'lifer' in Taiwan, this issue affects me personally. Without citizenship, it's difficult to plan for retirement: where exactly are we going to live if we can't get a mortgage approved, when landlords don't like to rent to the elderly? It's saddening to have no representation or say in the government of the country I call home.

And the government's excuses for not providing a reasonable, accessible pathway ring hollow --  they speak of 'loyalty' but just about anyone whose ancestors were Republic of China citizens can become Taiwanese. So they assume that, say, a person of Chinese heritage born in the US, whose ancestors may have never set foot in Taiwan, will be loyal to Taiwan. But not someone who decided she loved this country so much that she'd decide to make it her permanent home? They speak of security, and yes, that's a concern, but again -- how likely is a permanent resident in Taiwan likely to be co-opted by the Chinese government, and do they even try to determine whether, say, an American descendant of an ROC national has been? Come on.

In fact, Ketagalan Media has been getting a lot of my attention now that it's been properly revived. As it turns out, I also have opinions about nuclear power in Taiwan! You'd think as a diehard Splittist Separatist Independence Dog that I'd fall in line with the DPP and be anti-nuclear, but I'm actually not. I have concerns about it, but I actually think it's possible to do nuclear safely in Taiwan. The real question is, why hasn't the pro-nuclear crowd (really just the KMT and their ancillary admirers) done more to reassure the public that they prioritize safety? Do they prioritize safety? Given their history of lies and some very scary allegations, I can't say for certain that they do.

I'm also one of the authors of the 2024 Louis Vuitton Taipei City Guide, which is pretty cool. I handled restaurants, style and nightlife, which is somewhat hilarious because I have no style and I usually don't partake in nightlife (but I did seek out lots of good recommendations, and I have ideas for the next edition if I'm invited back). While some of my recommendations have moved (Joseph Bistro is now Summer Flowers) and others are going out of business (I'm really going to miss A-Cai's), others are still going strong. 

I've also been writing for local travel and tourism magazines. I drank so much coffee that I made myself slightly ill for a piece on Taiwan's upscale coffee revolution (and got to interview some interesting people, including a coffee roaster who opened her own cafe, an employee at SanFormosan (they don't do 'titles' there, it's very communal), the general manager of Simple Kaffa, and representatives from the Coffee Industrial Alliance of Taiwan. 

In fact, I've interviewed a lot of fascinating people over the past few years. I learned more about the history of Bao'an Temple (保安宮) from its chairman, Liao Wu-jyh (廖武治), discussed history and aesthetics with an expert on the Eight Generals (八家將), and traditional Taiwanese puppetry and its history with Robin Ruizendaal, a puppet master from the Netherlands who has also made Taiwan his permanent home -- and probably speaks better Taiwanese than I do. (Mine's not that good yet). There have been other articles, but these are the most memorable. 

I've also been writing for Taiwan Scene, including a piece on working as an expat woman in Taiwan. I wrote another on places to visit in Wanhua -- I can't find the link right now, but will post it when I do. 

Anyway, I've been busy, and there's more to come, including completed interviews with the general secretary of the Taipei Zoo and a well-known Taiwanese designer, and two or three more rapid-fire pieces for Ketagalan Media. 

Rambling around Ximen, afternoon tea, flowers: what I've been up to for Taiwan Scene

So, I've got a few things out at Taiwan Scene that I thought I'd share.

First, a guide to afternoon tea in unlikely places. I ventured beyond central Taipei (where you can get a decent afternoon tea at any number of establishments) to find places for a mid-afternoon repast where you wouldn't expect it. Say goodbye to 7-11 if you missed the lunch hours of regular restaurants!

Then there's "A Day In Historic Ximen" - yes, I reviewed a bunch of places, but I also added my knowledge of historical sights in the area. Some famous, some recently-restored, some a bit less well-known.

I also wrote a few pieces on flower season in Taipei - this one focuses on day routes where you can find different flowers, and another for Taiwan Scene on flower etiquette. It's probably too late to actually do any of the flower viewing routes, but keep them in mind for next year!

You don't adopt Taiwan, Taiwan adopts you: a book review of Formosa Moon

I used to believe that I’d adopted Taiwan, but the truth is, Taiwan adopted me, taking me in when I was in my early twenties and giving me a series of increasingly interesting reasons to stick around....Six months ago, I brought the love of my life to Taiwan. The idea was ostensibly to convince her to love Taiwan much in the way that I did. In this I believe I’ve met with some success.

- Joshua Samuel Brown, Formosa Moon 
(by Joshua Samuel Brown and Stephanie Huffman, ThingsAsian Press, 2018 - buy it here - and if you're in Taipei, there's a launch party this weekend)


I've heard people say that the best travel writing to read is about places you've never been: places foreign and "exotic" (how I hate that word) that you know next to nothing about, but come to understand in some small way through a guided journey by the author. If I'd ever quite bought into that, Formosa Moon cured me of it, reminding me that there is an earthier satisfaction in reading other peoples' experiences in places you know well.

Although none of the places mentioned in Formosa Moon were new to me (well, some of the hotels and restaurants mentioned were, such as the Dive Cube hotel), there's a certain beauty in reading about a place you're so familiar with that you can smell the air, see the details of the parks and unkempt sidewalks, picture the mountains, know intimately what kind of trees are growing all around and what it's like to live your life in a series of tiled buildings.

A section of the book takes place at Sun Moon Lake. Been there, didn't love it. Another one describes National Chengchi University. My sister studied there for a year. The Dome of Light? I was there two weeks ago. Tainan? I go every time I get the chance. Jiaoxi? Several visits, soaked in the public hot spring too. Huwei? I'm one of the few foreigners who went to Yunlin for fun over a Dragon Boat weekend just to see what it was like.

But there's something deeper about Formosa Moon that I just get. I think pretty much everyone who's made a life here - that is to say, many if not most of my closest friends at this point - understand as well. Taiwan is like a cat: you don't adopt a cat. A cat adopts you.

You might come here thinking you're going to just "go abroad for a few years" and do that privileged First World thing by teaching English to fund your time in Asia (you're probably not an actual English teacher). You might stay for 1, 2, 3 years: most of the cram school crowd seems to turn over in roughly those increments. Some of you won't get it: the traffic - there are traffic laws, I swear - the pollution, the ugly buildings (you will almost certainly live in one of these), the humidity, the long or weird working hours and greatly reduced career options, the crowds will all collude to gently push you out. Or maybe none of them will, and you'll enjoy your time here just fine, but when the clock is up it's up, and you were always going to return to the place you know is home anyway. Taiwan didn't adopt you. That's OK.

Some of you will fall in love here, or find your groove, or take an interest in Taiwan's unique history, or build a community. Or it'll be the damp hills, the palm trees, the local aunties, the 7-11s, the traditional markets. Or you'll watch a major social movement unfold up close and realize Taiwan is a place and a cause worth fighting for. Something about life here will speak to something inside you, and you'll stay. You probably didn't consciously choose to. You were adopted.

In this way, I found it appropriate that Formosa Moon heavily featured cats, though they popped up in the narrative for no particular reason, and certainly not in any planned thematic way. It just did. From the cats of Houtong (another place I know well, and have started hikes from) to the painted cats (among other fantastic creatures) of Rainbow Grandpa to Joshua's friend's cats which provided a cozy sense of home to Stephanie - the other writer of the book - I found the unexpected feline leitmotif to fit. Taiwan not only adopts you like a cat (or it doesn't), but it can be as cool, beguiling or mercurial as a cat, or as winsome and homey as one too. You know your cat loves you, but you're never quite sure how much.

Or, to put it another way:


Taiwan is kind, to its native born, adopted children, and short-term guests alike. But Taiwan doesn’t change its tempo for you. Instead, you must change your tempo to adapt to Taiwan. And this will make all the difference.


Of course, you get to wax lyrical about all of this because you chose to come for reasons other than making a basic living. Supporting yourself may have had something to do with it, but you could have done that where you'd come from. You're aware that exponentially larger numbers of foreign residents in Taiwan had no such privilege. (You are aware of that, yes?)

All this is not to say that only those who know Taiwan should read Formosa Moon. I'll certainly recommend - if not outright purchase as gifts - copies of the book for loved ones back home who perhaps don't get it, most of whom because they've never visited. It describes the country well, and even the pictures (which are very "homey", not glossy professional shots, which I see as a plus) show in accurate detail what life in Taiwan is like.

As the book itself points out, cities like Kyoto (or Shanghai or Singapore or these days, Seoul) beckon to the Western traveler who is planning their first trip to Asia. Most travelers don't think of "Asia" and immediately think "Taipei". So they don't come, and therefore, they don't know. Formosa Moon, I hope, might tempt some of them into finally visiting to see for themselves why I've chosen to stay for most of my adult life.

And not only that, I'll recommend it for its unique perspective. Every other piece of Taiwan-focused travel writing on my bookshelf is by a white guy. I haven't cracked them all yet, but will. I'm sure they'll be fantastic; people whose opinions I trust have told me so. But, so much travel writing is done by white guys hitting the trail alone, and other narrative voices enrich the genre. I don't think I've seen a travelogue written by two partners in a relationship before, each with views that play off or add depth to the other.

As someone who also moved to Taiwan and then six months later convinced the love of my life to move here too, that appeals to me - as a woman and a person in a committed relationship. Ours took a slightly different route: he didn't know he was the love of my life when he moved here (I kind of did, but didn't tell him so right off), and our relationship evolved here, not in the US. I didn't "love Taiwan" when he moved here: my first six months here weren't that great, to be honest. I am sure I have had success, however, in convincing him to love this country as much as I do. We show it in different ways, but I know.

More poignantly, Formosa Moon captures what it's like to be both in a relationship with a person, and with a country. We never had to face the challenge of Brendan liking Taiwan; he did immediately, on his first visit here. I wasn't sure then how much I liked Taiwan: I didn't decide to make the commitment until three years later. That was when I'd been planning to decide if I'd stay or go; it also happened to be the year we got married. I suppose our somewhat weirdly polyamorous love grew together.

Of course there's a bittersweetness to every love story. You know how they say that in a relationship, someone always loves more, and the other less? And the one who loves less has all the power?

Although I know I can never truly be "a local" (forget not looking the part: it's just not my native culture), I want to stay and advocate for Taiwan, and gain legal rights - not just privileges accorded me out of courtesy as a permanent resident, which can be revoked. I don't expect a perfect life here. It would be nice, however, if in my relationship with Taiwan I didn't always feel like I was the one who loved more. I like to think that by opening myself up to Taiwan, that Taiwan has opened to me a little. I'll never know how much, though.

I'll end, then, on a particular salient quote from co-Stephanie Huffman:


Taiwan and I were certainly friends but had we really progressed to a love state? I didn’t know even know how Taiwan felt about me and I certainly wanted some indication of her feelings before I made any commitments.



Yup. Except I did that thing that relationship advice columnists say never to do: I made the commitment without knowing quite how she felt about me.

Still here though. You see, I was adopted.