Xin Lan and the City

The lasts of things tend to bring out the introspective, analytical nature in me, just as it probably would in everyone. In between packing and planning the next 24 hours today, I thought about my time here. What was my perspective of this place before coming, upon arrival, and now? Will my friends and family view me as a different person? Will I view me as a different person? Will I notice changes in myself? Have I gotten so used to things in Taipei that I will find San Diego and California life a bit peculiar?

In contemplating the answers to such inquiries and realizing I have had somewhat of an audience along the way, I found myself starting to identify with a present-day Carrie Bradshaw (no, not in that way), reflecting upon the nuances and eccentricities of society through the lens of a first-person narrative, but sans the boundless collection of Manolo Blahnik stilettos that would make Imelda Marcos swoon and a wardrobe that would impress even the Prada-adorned Devil herself.

While I expected my last day here to be rather unexciting, it took a fun twist at the end. I had originally been invited on a bus ride with the international scholars, but due to unexpected lack of space, Alice informed me a few days ago that there wouldn't be room. I thus originally had plans, but these were cancelled semi last-minute. I started to go to Taipei 101 today to ride the elevator to the top which i have yet to do, but it was ridiculously cloudy, and I didn't particularly want to pay for a pricey ticket only to go up dozens of floors and be unable to see anything. Instead, I stayed home and took a nap.

John came home for a little bit and reserved my taxi for tomorrow morning's airport ride, and then proceeded to inform me he was leaving for a dinner party. A few moments later he invited me along as a sort of farewell for me. I jumped at the chance, and I'm glad I did, because I had a fabulous time.

The two of us left the apartment and met Alice and the others at a famous dim sum restaurant in Taipei. It hadn't been raining in Nankang but it was absolutely pouring in the vicinity of the restaurant. Neither John nor I had brought an umbrella. In fact, I usually do but had already packed mine, and I figured the odds of rain were slim to none. And ten weeks ago I would have said I was genuinely surprised. But now? Nothing surprises me.

The restaurant is an extremely popular one and every table in the joint was packed, with a line of people outside waiting for tables. We were served dumplings of all sorts, in addition to some qing cai and various soups. Dessert consisted of taro dumplings and a red bean cake, both of which I am a big fan. Throughout dinner, I talked extensively with the other guests, who, as John later informed me, are all experts in their respective fields. I happened to be wearing my UCSD Cycling shirt, which I've noticed in many situations is a great conversation starter--who'd have thought? So we talked about cycling, their universities, my studies, their time in Taipei, and all sorts of things. (It actually turns out Derek, the one in the orange shirt, lived in La Jolla 25 years ago when he worked at Scripps and rode to campus on a one-speed. Completely out of the blue we started talking about inside and outside Torrey repeats!) I think this somewhat solves the mystery as to why I never have any fun partying and clubbing with other twentysomethings. The crowd that I have the most fun with is middle-aged academics. Is this completely weird? If so, so be it.

So half a dozen cups of tea later, dinner concluded. The itinerary had included a trip to Longshan Temple and the Huaxi Night Market afterwards, but given the sensitive weather situation and the fatigue of some of the guests, they decided to return to their hotel. John and I took a taxi home, and now I'm finishing up the last touches of packing (and by 'packing' I mean smashing and resmashing things into my suitcases so they no longer resemble their original shape).

All of us post-dinner with full and happy stomachs.

I caught a glimpse of the dim-sum makers hard at work.

Hmmm, what's that green stuff?

So now I have exactly twelve hours until my departure back home. In a mere two-and-a-half months, I've experienced highs and lows and everything in between.

With that, I close with a thought from Carrie that sums everything perfectly:

"As we drive along this road called life, occasionally a gal will fnd herself a little lost. And when that happens, I guess she has to let go of the coulda, shoulda, woulda, buckle up and just keep going."