Dear Taipei, This is Getting Ridiculous
What happens when convenience, cuteness, and chaos collide.
Dear Taipei,
Thank you for believing that my stomach can hold five baos, four cartwheel cakes, a bubble tea, and a bowl of stinky tofu all at once. Your support—via your UNESCO-recognized Intangible Cultural Heritage street food traditions—means the world to me. What does not mean the world to me is the over 500 types of street food you expect me to consume while assaulting my senses with their delicious aromas on every corner. I couldn’t possibly do it unless I turned it into my life’s work—but by the end of this trip, that’s exactly what I might do.
Naturally, after stuffing myself silly, I needed somewhere to offload the evidence. Which brings me to your trash trucks. I’d like to thank you for triggering a Pavlovian response every time I hear Beethoven’s Für Elise. That now means I’m excited to grab anything within arm’s reach and sprint outside just to toss it in. Who said ice cream trucks had to have all the fun, right? Between the nightly trash runs and the 30+ night markets across the city, how could I ever be productive during the day when you keep me fully booked after dark?
And if trash runs weren’t enough to keep me sprinting outside, your night markets sealed the deal. Who knew I needed so many plushies? You did, Taipei. You did. And you nudged me in that direction with your decision to create a mascot for literally everything. Some of their names are incredible: Bravo the Bear, Salmon Uncle, Mr. Rice, Love You Deer, Fever Cat. I’m just saying—if even the tax agency gets a mascot, how come I don’t have one yet?
It’s the same kind of excessive brilliance that shows up in your convenience stores. They’re just too damn convenient. If someone has a job interview, they can pop in, grab a coffee, print their resume, and even buy a necktie. Who thinks like that? Have you ever heard of friction? Sometimes it’s a good thing.
Another place that could use a little friction? Your Metro. Two million riders a day, and it’s spotless, punctual, and quiet. Slow it down. Make us earn it. I’ve been to your baseball games—which are spectacles in and of themselves—but when they let out, the queues are orderly and the trains aren’t even packed. It’s unsettling how... functional everything is.
But I know your efficiency is just the start. Beneath the polish lies something wilder, more grounded—mountains and hot springs, misty ridges in Yangmingshan, the hiss of tea kettles and bathers wading into the Beitou steam. You’re not just about speed; you’re about slowing down in the right places. You’ve even managed to turn a daily commute into something like a walk in the park. Literally.
I guess what I’m trying to say is: I love you, Taipei. You’ve given me more than I ever expected—plush toys, bubble tea, bureaucratic mascots, and Beethoven-backed sanitation rituals. You don’t need to change a thing.
Well... maybe just have a word with the 30 species of mosquitoes currently eating me alive. I know you’re irresistible, but must they be so literal about it?
—Scott
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