The more I stay in the U.S., the more I remember my years in Taiwan in a positive light. I feel like my nostalgia for Taiwan caused my memories to become distorted. When I lived in Taiwan, I disliked the humid environment and the gray skies after rainy days. I complained that the buildings had gray walls from the mold that grew on them. In elementary school, I wished that the city planning reflected the U.S. system where all the residential buildings were together instead of having commercial and residential buildings next to each other. After returning to the U.S. five years later, however, I don't really think those aspects of Taiwan were really downsides. Nowadays, I somehow manage to neglect those "downsides" whenever I think of Taiwan.
What I currently think about Taiwan is not what I expected to reflect upon the most as I boarded the plane to San Francisco in 2016. When I saw the green land vanish before my eyes outside my airplane window, I thought about how much I would miss the international school and the volunteer club. But I didn't really consider that a lot of the nostalgia came from the small things in Taiwan like the food and the hospitality. I would say that nowadays I still miss the excellent facilities and resources that the school offered and the volunteer club, those aren't my sole reasons for missing Taiwan.
I suppose that the reason I overlooked the small and simple things in Taiwan is that I thought that the Asian community in California could replace some aspects of Taiwan such as the Chinese restaurants. As I spent more time living here, however, I realized that it is difficult to replicate the dining experience in the U.S. For instance, I cannot find some tofu pudding shop here that I once enjoyed eating in Taiwan. I don't mean to sound unsatisfied with where I live. I just crave the atmosphere and environment that brings me memories of my preteen and late childhood years. I want the warm, soft 豆花 to melt the moment my lips taste them. I want to sit with my family on the old fashioned wooden stools with our customized bowls of chewy and gelatinous toppings. I now picture the satisfaction I get when I pull the freshly made onion pancake and shove a large chunk of it in my mouth. I see myself ordering cheap 35 NT bubble milk tea from Coco on the streets of 金山街。
Besides the yummy food in Taiwan, I also miss the culture there that had a significant impact on me. I find it sad that when I live in the U.S., I don't really celebrate traditional Chinese festivals even though I should. These festivals include the Moon Festival (中秋節), Dragon Boat Festival (端午節), Dongzhi (冬至)， Lantern Festival (元宵節), Tomb Sweeping Day (清明節), etc. It seems that there is a lack of energy and enthusiasm in the U.S. partly because these days are working days and also because you don't see a lot of people celebrating it around you.
After writing two paragraphs detailing the specific things I miss about Taiwan, I now am left with few words to describe other things I miss there. It is as if I know the specific location on a map but I can't pinpoint it exactly. I am sorry if I am not eloquent, but it is something about the spirit of the people there that makes me like the place. The people there are friendly, hospitable, and down-to-earth. Maybe it is because I am a Chinese-American so they are more interested in my life in the United States, but the curiosity they have to know others is something I don't see on a day-to-day basis.
As I write this, I notice that the primary reason I want to go back is to be closer to my roots, as cliche as that may sound. I am extremely grateful for living in Taiwan because without that experience, I would not appreciate Chinese language and culture as much. I already wrote this in my college essays, but I would like to restate them in this blog post. When I lived in the U.S., I felt like I was hibernating and unaware of my culture. I say this because I did not speak Chinese and demonstrated little curiosity about my cultural heritage. After moving to Taiwan, however, the place woke me up and catalyzed a new part of my identity that inspired me to potentially minor in Chinese or Asian Studies in college.
I feel that if I stay in the U.S. too long, I will lose what I previously gained. I can already feel its effects. After taking AP Chinese, I stopped learning Chinese. I find it hard to write certain characters on paper and I need to refer to my Chinese-English dictionary whenever I type Chinese characters on the computer. I have to ask my mom every other minute how to say an easy Chinese word. I stare at the 康軒五上(5A) textbook and feel disappointed that I don't remember what half of the words mean. The accent I speak with is one that is not native or standard. The words that I could previously speak/write/read are gone.
I don't want to make it sound like this outcome is irreversible. If I attend advanced Chinese classes in college that cover Chinese literature and history, then I might be able to be as fluent or even more fluent than my middle school self. Other steps I can take include doing an international internship in Taiwan/China.
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