An article I recently read about traveling said that one quick way to know whether a person in any country traveling is American is how much s/he smiles. I guess if that really is the giveaway, then I must be extremely American because I do this a lot when traveling, especially when I don’t understand what’s going on when I am slightly lost in translation. I realize that for a lot of people, this is extremely frustrating and grates on their nerves because it’s never a good feeling to feel like you are either not in control or not understanding what’s happening around you. But for me, this is actually a part of travel that invigorates me and almost feeds me, making me crave more and more of this slight chaos. I actually like being surprised, not always knowing what’s going on, and eventually figuring out what’s being unveiled in front of me. With my elementary Mandarin, it’s been exciting for me to speak in Mandarin to someone, to then have them respond to me in Taiwanese, and have the I’m-speaking-Mandarin-to-you and you’re-speaking-Taiwanese-back-to-me experience continue. Based on context and extremely slight and subtle language similarities, I’d make out what was being said, and the conversation would continue. And every time something like this would happen, I’d become even more excited and wishing this type of exchange would happen more.

So then when I get back to the U.S., the language part of life suddenly becomes boring again because here, we’re speaking English, and here, because we’re ignorant, racist, and xenophobic assholes, we prefer to speak English and get annoyed when people around us do not. And I speak English fluently, and I rather be around people who don’t because I tend to learn more around them than people here, and I get surprised more often, and that’s what helps make life interesting and riveting.

I still remember the first time I ever ate a Taiwanese pineapple cake. I was at my friend’s house one evening watching old movies during my college days, and her mom came into the living room and presented a box of beautiful, individually wrapped pineapple cakes. A family friend had recently come back from Taiwan and gave her this box as a gift from her travels. The orange boxes were like mini 3D castles, and once you undid the origami-like paper box, a single wrapped pineapple cake was inside, waiting to be consumed. I undid the box, then the wrapping, to reveal a perfect, light golden rectangular cake. I bit into it, and the inside was a faint orange-yellow color, sweet and chewy, with a hint of tanginess. And the pastry on the outside was buttery, rich, and flaky. I ate it in about four delicious bites. I felt a bit greedy and was tempted to ask for another one, but I resisted and allowed the taste to linger in my mouth.

I’d never had an Asian dessert like that before. And the next time I went into an Asian supermarket, I looked to see if I could find a similar one. The markets I visited in Boston did have them, but they barely had any pineapple in them, and the flavor and texture was so inferior. It was like having the cheapest possible version of the luxurious bites I had that night at my friend’s house, and I was repeatedly disappointed.

So this trip, I made a list of the four brands to look out for, and I ended up buying three of them. Sunny Hills and Chia Te were Saturday morning destinations for us, and Sunny Hills was so fancy that they invited us in at opening time for a whole, free complimentary cake, with a lovely little cup of oolong tea. Chia Tea was a bit more on the stingy side, as they didn’t even allow us a half-bite sample. But I bought them anyway. And I loved both for different reasons. The Sunny Hills cake had the deepest and richest pineapple flavor, but the Chia Te cake had a smoother and richer texture. Pineapple cakes in Taiwan have yet to be replicated elsewhere — in my heart or in my mouth.

We spent the day yesterday exploring Kaohsiung and decided to go out to Cijin (or Qijin) Island to explore Kaohsiung’s land of water, sand, and shells. We rented a small motorized golf-like cart for two hours and sped around on the buggy roads. We even took it off the designated roads against the rules and drove through the street markets with it, buying mango smoothies and more mango smoothies. The time finally came to go back to the city, and lo and behold, there were no cabs to be seen anywhere. We tried requesting an Uber, and none would come all the way out to Cijin after multiple timed out requests. Then, we tried calling our hotel to ask them to get a cab to come out to get us, but they told us that would take time, and we’d be charged for the cab’s journey out to get us and back into the city. We kept looking at the streets futilely, and no cabs.

Finally, we decided to ask a random person for help. I walked into the nearest hole-in-the-wall restaurant, where I told the men working there that I needed a cab to go back into Kaohsiung and asked what they’d suggest. I said I tried looking but couldn’t find them anywhere. One of the workers went into his drawer to see if they had a business card of someone who could drive us, but he couldn’t find it. Then another man said he might have a friend who would be able to help. And then out of nowhere, someone he knows drove his scooter up to the front of the restaurant, and he asked this guy if he could help search the streets looking for a cab driver to bring me back to Kaohsiung. The man dutifully and without hesitation agreed and said he’d be right back, and he scoots away. The man in the restaurant said there are usually cabs on Cijin, but because it’s prime dinner time, all the cabbies must be eating dinner.

I called Chris to come from across the street and told him that we’d get a cab to come soon. And in less than 10 minutes, a new guy I don’t recognize came back on a scooter and asked me if I’m the one who needs the cab. I was so confused at this point because this guy wasn’t the same man who originally went to look for a cab for us. And finally, a cab drove up to the front of the restaurant, and we got into his car. He pulled down his window and spoke a bit to the original guy who asked his friend to look for a cab for us. I thanked the restaurant worker and we drive off.

And even this cab driver was also so kind and considerate. We told him he wanted to go to a certain night market. He knew what it was, but he asked me if I checked the opening days, as it might be one of the off days. I said we were sure it would be open, but he said many stalls may be closed, and not many people would be there. In the end, he was right: many stalls were closed and it was practically just us there wandering through the aisles. But it was a fun experience to be stranded and try to get help from the locals. They were so quick to volunteer different ways to help us and strategized amongst themselves to see who knew who, and a few times reassured me that I’d get home safely. Taiwanese people are the best.

My cousin’s wife is originally from Kaohsiung, so naturally, she has a preference for Kaohsiung over Taipei. Kaohsiung is the far less traveled to city in Taiwan, down south, known for its seafood, even warmer and more tropical climate, as well as being the major port of Taiwan. In travel forums I’ve read, there seems to be a rivalry between the two cities that mirrors that of Sydney vs. Melbourne or LA vs. San Francisco. It seems a bit silly, but I suppose all of us are a little competitive.

After visiting for over a day now, to me Kaohsiung looks like a more modern and shiny version of Taipei. Taipei isn’t crowded at all by world standards, but Kaohsiung seems to have even less car and foot traffic. The buildings look newer and glittering. But the people seem to speak a lot more Taiwanese than Mandarin from what I’ve been hearing. As we’ve traveled further south, there is far less English known by people, and like I had read, so many older people don’t know or understand the romanization of the Chinese language because that really has not happened in Taiwan until fairly recently, so showing an English address or even saying an English word beyond the basic “hello” or “thank you” completely goes over their heads. Even some of the cab or Uber drivers we’ve met might initially address me in Mandarin, but gradually drift into Taiwanese, and only based on context and the very tiny similarities in the two languages can I make out what they are saying to me. Even when I respond in Mandarin, they still respond back in Taiwanese. I guess this is how one becomes fluent in multiple dialects of Chinese, simply by constantly listening and trying to adapt based on context.

I love both cities now, having visited both. There are far more “tourist” sites in Taipei, but Kaohsiung has its own charm and beauty. The public art here is also so fun and innovative. It doesn’t seem to matter where you go here — people are always friendly and helpful, and the food is delicious everywhere.