2022-04-23

Photo by: 楊芸嫃 Yang Yungzheng

We belong to (or seek to belong to) a language, to a land, to flavors and aromas. Even if that belonging is a scar that hurts every time it rubs against life, with what was left and the approaching unknown. And although distance and time expand, we will look for those same colors, aromas and ways under another sky, with other words and sounds. This is how, in a certain way, a demonym is replicated, a place, something that encodes what we yearn for. Taiwan is a meeting point for many cultures in Southeast Asia. It is not infrequently surprising to find unusual experiences, some are true tributes to the people who have settled on this island for centuries.

We decided to meet at the cable car station to Maokong. A multitude of families wait with us for their turn to board. The southeast area of ​​Taipei is full of trees and the view from the top is breathtaking. Above, a multicolored balloon burns in the middle of the infinite sky. The gondola rocks. We stand up. It is only the transparent glass floor that separates us from the sea of ​​trees under our feet. This time it is not K’iche’ or Spanish that shapes the laughter and excitement of my friends, what resonates in the cabin is English, Japanese and Mandarin.

The foundation of the zoo dates back to 1914. It was initially created on private land north of the city during the Japanese colonial period. After World War II, the park came under the local government’s administration. In the mid-1970s, planning began for the new zoo, larger and better suited for the conservation of species and the enjoyment of people. Currently the Taipei Zoo is located in the Muzha district, southeast of the city; it began its operation in the late 1980s.

We started our tour of the park. First the birds, the temperate climate animals, the penguins, the lemurs that seem to be watching us because at one point along the way we are the ones locked up, not them. The warmth and greenery of spring in Taiwan remind me of a family trip to the Pacific coast of Guatemala. Amid the buzz of insects from the fierce tropics, I began to dream of traveling far away, of sending signals from a distance. Today those signals come in the form of photos, videos and text.

I recognize myself in the faces of my friends, foreigners who came to Taiwan in search of another life, sometimes by way of escape, sometimes by way of encounter or hope. Island status has particularities that extend to culture, politics, society. Perhaps the most notable one is the quality of refuge amidst the pandemic. Fortunately for us, in Taiwan people usually talk about food and not about the weather. So instead of continuing to walk we propose to go eat. We rummage through the options offered in the food court area. I finally decided on the noodles with sesame sauce (調麻醬麵) and a star fruit (carambola) drink (經典楊桃汁).

At lunchtime our talk ranged from theories about the peopling of America and the possible connection between Asians and Native Americans, to the similarity of the noodle dish in front of me with another very famous dish in Guatemala: Pepián. The sauce that seasons the noodles is made from sesame seeds and pumpkin seeds (Sakil in the K'iche' language), also known as pepitoria. This sauce is the base of the dish that we often prepare at my parents' house and it is one of my favorites Guatemalan foods. I mention this to my friends, between comments of astonishment and laughter we move on to something else.

Having a good conversation and sharing a meal is something that usually dissolves tensions and strengthens coexistence. Now, by repeating the ritual of silence, the one where I allow myself to visit certain passages of the soul that are otherwise always unattainable under the midst of hectic days, I realize that coming to Taiwan has transformed me. In Guatemala we tend to think of distance as a gauge for success and nostalgia, although no one really knows how to measure that. As I review the photos of our visit to the zoo, I think about my friends, the many that life has given to me and continues giving me. I think about the landscapes that they have seen, their struggles and the enormous journeys that brought us to share this site on any given Saturday. We acknowledge our silences and laugh during one afternoon.