In 2021, I published two essays with the now-defunct Catapult magazine that were supposed to be part of a new column called “Diary of a Reverse Immigrant” — essays about aspects of my life in Taiwan and trying to make sense of all the experiences I had, coming to live here as an adult.
I wrote an essay about tea eggs and home, and then an essay about how running led me to community here. I had ideas for more columns planned, but I got overwhelmed by life — I was trying to finish editing my novel, HOMESEEKING, for my agent, and then I got pregnant, and then Catapult was unceremoniously ended (RIP). So those ideas got shelved, and, if I’m to be honest, I was kind of relieved? I had no brain space to write carefully thought out, well-written and insightful personal essays. I still feel that way now, two and a half years postpartum and five months since my novel was published. I sit down to write most days and find it hard to focus or gather my thoughts. I don’t know if this is publishing fatigue or mom brain or what; I just know that while I used to be able to sit in front of a computer for eight hours and bang out a draft of an essay in a day, I don’t quite have the attention span I used to.
Anyway, as an exercise to keep me writing, despite my lack of brain space, I thought, well, what if I were to revive that column as a Substack? Something low stakes, yet not as low stakes as my personal journal I write by hand (which is, quite honestly, mostly me chronicling the cute things my toddler does and of no interest to the general public). I could write about life in Taiwan as a Taiwanese American expat, about what it’s like to be married to a Taiwanese man (who doesn’t speak much English!), and what it’s like to raise a baby in Taiwan. I could sprinkle in a little bit of all the other stuff in my life — my aerial practice, things I do and eat and see and read. Maybe, just maybe, there might be some interest in that?
I can’t promise you the same kind of well-written, carefully revised essays I might have written in the past; I can’t even promise that the posts will always have a point. They might run from a couple of paragraphs to thousands of words long, I don’t know. And as much as I’d like to make a promise to post regularly, I don’t know what that looks like yet! Maybe as often as once a week, but I’ll strive for, at the very least, once a month? I guess we’ll see how this all feels for me once I get started. But perhaps this is as much for me as it is for any random folks out there who might want to follow along. I suspect one day, I will wish I had written more of these details of my experience down.
By the way, I have no idea how this differs from a blog in essence (yes, I know it’s a newsletter, but you know what I mean?) because I am a Xennial so apologies in advance if I “do this wrong.”
To start off with, perhaps I should just start with what how I ended up in Taiwan:
As a kid, I never visited Taiwan with any regularity. We came my first time when I was five, and I only remember bits and pieces of that trip — running through the plaza outside Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial; eating noodles; visiting my A Zou and being warned in advance she was a very scary woman. The next time I visited was when I was seventeen, when my family was living in Hong Kong. We went for me to, uh, take glamour shots. This is what a lot of the kids in my high school were doing for their senior portraits, since Taiwan was known to have the best glamour shot industry around, way better than Hong Kong. Besides the photoshoot session itself, my most salient memory is going to a dim sum restaurant for some reason (even though we had amazing dim sum in Hong Kong every weekend!) and thinking, Wow, Taiwan has really terrible dim sum!! (I think Taiwan has vastly improved in that regard since that time.)
I can’t remember the next time I visited after that — my visits in my early adulthood (college and post-college) all sort of blur together. But I recall these visits as being the ones that really unlocked my interest in Taiwan, or specifically, Taipei. Each of these visits included so many delicious food stops, exciting strolls through night markets and cute shops hidden in back alleys, shopping excursions where I could afford trendy clothes and adorable trinkets despite my meager funds, and just a general warmth and electricity I really gravitated towards. People were friendly; it was easy to get around. One time I came to visit when a friend of mine was studying at ICLP (this very intense Mandarin Chinese language program) and she took me to karaoke and clubbing, to the top of the newly built 101, to a manga exhibition in the World Trade Center. With her I had my first taste of shaved snow ice and all you can eat spicy mala hot pot. By the end of all of these trips, I was in love. I was determined to live in Taipei for one year before I settled down. I didn’t know how I would get there, but it was something I desperately wanted for myself.
I got there by way of Fulbright. At the end of 2015, I flew to Taiwan with two suitcases, intending to stay for a year. I was going to Taiwan to do research on my novel, then unnamed and completely different in plot, and in the mean time I also hoped to 1. Improve my Chinese 2. Explore as much of Taiwan as I could fit in. By the end of that year, I was loathe for my time to end.
For the next years, I flew back and forth between Taiwan and New Jersey, but when friends asked when I would move out of Taiwan and permanently back to the States, I always said something vague like, “Soon. Probably this year.”
Folks, it’s been ten years. I love Taiwan dearly. I am married to a Taiwanese man and have a Taiwanese child. I am still an American at heart, a New Yorker at heart, someone who craves pizza and bagels and deli sandwiches and chopped salads on a regular basis. Someone who misses Broadway musicals and Central Park and apple picking. Someone who side eyes most Caesar salads and bowls of chili listed on menus in Taiwan. I miss my literary community back home, my friends and family back home.
And yet. And yet and yet. I have so much affection for this country, for this place I now call home. I have done so much growing up here, so much finding myself here. I fell in love here and grew a baby here. It is a place where, inexplicably, despite all the challenges of culture differences and my middling Chinese speaking ability, I feel great peace and comfort. There is so much to love about this country, from food to people to mountains to sea. And for now, at least, this is the place I most want to be.
I thought it might be fun to end each post with a short list of stuff I’ve recently consumed or done or whatever, so without further ado,
Things I’m…
Eating:
Yesterday I had lunch with a friend who was in town (actually, the artist who carved my amazing Chinese seal, the very gifted Vincent Chong). Because he’s a vegetarian, I searched around for a yummy vegetarian spot (of which there are many in Taiwan!). I came across this gem of a cafe. They recommended their special clay pot rice which came with choice of soup and main as side. Vincent got the gobo katsu and I got the 梅乾菜 (which I can only say is like… pickled mustard greens?) with mushroom. It was so delicious, not to mention, tasted super clean. Nothing was oily or heavily salted. I really enjoyed the food, and sorry to say I forgot to take a photo.
Reading:
The Boy From Clear Water (Book 1) by Yu Pei-Yun, illustrated by Zhou Jian-Xin, translated by Lin King
This graphic novel tells the story of a little Taiwanese boy who grows up during a very tumultuous period of Taiwanese history. Book one chronicles his childhood living under Japanese imperial rule and the ways in which he excels in school to his unfair arrest during the White Terror period to his ten years spent imprisoned on Green Island. It’s a fast read, though not an easy one. I’m still awaiting Book 2 to arrive in the mail, but looking forward to finishing the next volume.
Watching:
When Life Gives You Tangerines (Netflix)
Oh man. This show, about a young woman and the relationship, family, and life she cultivates on Jeju Island during the second half of the twentieth century, totally broke my heart. It’s cozy and feel-good and yet so heartbreaking at the same time. Episode six, about child loss, undid me. I held my kid closely that night and every time my child asks for a hug, I think about this episode.
Listening:
“Chaos Graph” — This American Life
One of the most enraging episodes of TAL that I’ve listened to. It begins with a story about scientific research being halted by the current government, followed by a wrongful imprisonment and deportation by ICE, and ends on a story of doctors working in Gaza seeing a large number of CHILDREN with gunshot wounds to the head or chest — evidence that they were targeted — and the deafening silence when they tried to raise this issue to the American public and government.
I’d be a bad author if I didn’t at least do a line of self-promo, so:
My novel, HOMESEEKING, about two Shanghainese childhood sweethearts who are separated by the Chinese Civil War, is available for purchase now!
I loved your book Homeseeking! I was born in Australia but also spent every summer in Shanghai when I was a teenager - how odd it feels to be in a place that feels simultaneously strange yet familiar. So excited you started a Substack!
a lovely read :) glad to have found your substack, and just added your book to my TBR! i feel like more folks in this generation are embarking on “reverse”immigration, leaving places that were promised to be lands of so-called golden opportunities.. it’s a welcome trend, i think. looking forward to your posts!