Taipei is famous for it's night markets. They are full of all kinds of things you can eat and drink. Milk tea, a squid on a stick, stinky tofu (of course), deep fried ice cream (had some), little kids, stray cats, black goo clogging the floor drains, pumpkin seeds, beer, dating couples, smoking people, bright lights, bright signs, brightly lit bright signs, cheese and bacon sandwiches, mutton sandwiches, beef floss sandwiches (I'm not sure what that is), narrow crowded isles, foreigners (hey, that's us) loud people selling food, menu items with blood, hundreds of smells, cigarette butts on the floor, vending machines, hand made sausages, greasy food, oily food, deep fried food, weird food, really good food, and finally cheap good food. And it's open late, it's the "Night Market."

Tonight at book study some friends of my room-mate were visiting from Japan, a sister and her daughter. They commented in Japanese and my room-mate interpreted their answers for the book-study. Afterwards and when everyone had eaten their treats and finished chatting and getting to know the two sisters, people started to filter out and go home. Fan Tien, my room-mate, asked me if I'd like to go with them to the "Yesher" or the "Night Market." Of course, I'd love to go. I thought it was very close, a walk away, but we ended up on the subway for a 15-20 minute ride, Pu Dixiong (Brother Pu) a 20 year old Korean brother who speaks a lot of Chinese and a tiny bit of English went with us, making us a group of five foreigners touring the night life of Taipei. Brother Pu, I should point out, brings my maturity level down to about 14 years old. I'm not sure why, maybe it's because our communication abilities are so limited that we end up reverting to basic things. Most of the time we trailed behind "the adults" (two of which are probably younger than me) at the night market giggling and asking each other if we wanted to buy this or that ridiculous thing or disgusting piece of food. On the subway we stood a few feet away from "the adults" and dared each other to sit in the "old people" seats, (Dark blue seats marked with signs to yield to the elderly or handicapped.) Brother Pu on the sidewalk on the way into the Night Market grabbed my shoulder and asked me where my muscles "had traveled to." But I think I'll always remember tonight with Pu Dixiong persistently harassing me to "talk to the Japanese girl in English" (referring to the daughter who is somewhere near my age) "Ask her a question in English." "Talk to her!" which is extra strange and awkward when she's standing right there not understanding him only because he's speaking in Chinese. And of course I'm resisting, "I don't know what to say, I have no question!" "No" But since he was literally poking me and pushing me towards her, I was forced to grow up instantly and think of a question or two, "So did you really like that Stinky Tofu?" "Are you here on a vacation?" "How long will you be here?" and "Where in Japan are you from?" I love that last question because I don't even know where Tokyo is much less any other city in Japan. Fortunately she was able to (with concentration) speak enough English to keep a little conversation going for the short remainder of the train ride. Somewhat to my relief the two sisters had to suddenly get off at their stop. Pu Dixiong had nothing to dare me to do anymore but sit in the "old people" seats. So I did, since the train was half empty and there was no one standing but the three of us, perfectly OK to sit in. But Pu Dixiong tricked me, he wouldn't sit in the old people seat next to me, instead he sat next to a guy across from me and told me in his favorite memorized English expression that someone [else] taught him: "I'm ashamed of you." (edit 301) Permalink