Every so often I take a trip down south from Taipei with my wife to visit my in-laws who live in a small town, and although I have been making this trip for a while now it still leaves me breathing hard with exasperation at the unrelenting, barren ugliness that stretches as far as the eye can see. It is unimaginable really.
I try to explain it to my sister over the phone: Concrete and corrugated-iron blocks of buildings that open right onto the street which in turn smells of raw sewage, diseased and maimed dogs everywhere, sad looking trees that pop up like weeds in odd spaces, a greasy layer of dirt that covers everything, the sickening subtropical heat, the filthy air, the smoke and noise. Beetle nut chewing men with red mouths and rotten teeth speaking Taiwanese and spitting on the burning tarmac. Noisy kids. People everywhere, even in so called rural towns, walking right in the streets behind belching busses because there are simply no sidewalks.
When I get back to my part of Taipei, it does not seem that bad. At least there is some visible attempt to make a place that is fit for human habitation, like the many parks and the cycle path that runs along the river. There are no skanky beetle nut shanties along the streets and people actually wear shoes on their feet.
I am happy in my little bubble on a mountain overlooking the city and if it was not out of love for my wife and in-laws I would never venture out into the wasteland that is the rest of Taiwan. If there is any beauty to be found on this ravaged island it is that part which is exempt from any significant Taiwanese population.
