The spring of 2019 was the year my family and I decided to go to Taiwan to visit my grandfather. It was one in the morning, and we were starting to fly up into the air. I lifted up the oval shaped window cover on the airplane to see the dark sky, but the small lights flashing with the bright moon attracted my gaze. The musty air and smelly bathrooms made me sick to my stomach. I reached into my packed backpack and tried to look for my homework, but all I could feel was my blanket that I tried to stuff inside. After panicking for a few minutes I realized that I put my homework in my mother’s bag because mine was stuffed. I opened the first page of my math book and tried to complete the first question, but I couldn’t focus. All I could think about was what Taiwan would look and feel like. I wished we could get  there in one minute, but the flight took almost a whole day. When we got off the plane, I immediately got blasted with hot humid air, which made me drip with sweat. The smog and tropical air was dense and hard to breathe in.  It was bright and sunny in Taiwan, unlike the New York we’d left behind where it was  mostly dark and cold.

It was time to find our way around the Taipei airport without getting lost. After walking all around the airport and through the scary police officers, we finally found my dad.  He came to Taiwan a day earlier for a race. We went to the train station and tried to find the right train line to take to our hotel. I felt like a tourist in New York City trying to figure out the trains on the confusing MTA map. The only difference was the doors and stairs in the Taiwan station were shiny, unlike the rat infested corridors and tracks we have in New York.

We went out for lunch at Din Tai Fung, which is a famous restaurant in Taiwan that serves traditional Taiwanese food. The smell of big, juicy dumplings radiated all around the restaurant. We could see the workers hard at work trying to make thousands of dumplings for us to eat. After waiting for what seemed like forever, we sat down at a large table. I looked at the menu that was filled with pictures of oily dumplings and noodles. I tried to order a glass of ice water, but I backed out and drank the hot tea on the hot day. I could not take the pressure of speaking my broken Chinese in front of my family. My grandfather started to order twenty different dishes for us to eat. I asked him, “Why did you order so much food?” He said, “Don’t worry I only ordered six dishes.” The food started to come out, and I could feel my mouth salivating. The first soup dumpling I grabbed with my chopsticks exploded onto the table. The delicate wrapper ripped and all the salty soup was everywhere. I was so worried that my mother would yell at me so I used my napkin and cleaned away my mess. I attempted to pick up another one with caution by using a spoon.  I quickly put the dumpling in my mouth not realizing that it was scorching hot. First a burning sensation filled my mouth, and then the dumpling flavors were melting onto my tongue. My mother piled vegetables on my plate and said, “Stop eating meat or you're going to get fat.” On the other hand my father knew what I wanted and gave me some stir fried noodles with beef. The first bite of the noodles made my heart melt. I could taste the slight fire and sweet flavors that I never tasted before in American-Chinese cooking. The vegetables had so much flavor and did not taste like grass, like the food my mom makes. 

Once we all were filled up with food, we walked around the city and took in the new culture. The smell of fermented tofu and street food was so pungent it made me cry. The streets were filled with people trying to buy their groceries and food for their families. I saw a small shop that was selling bubble tea, one of Taiwan's most famous drinks. The shop’s flowers and decorations drew me in to order a drink. I asked my mother, “Can you order a green bubble milk tea for me.” She said, “Go order it yourself. You're old enough to order your own drinks.” I started to sweat and worry about how I was going to order. So many questions were going through my mind. Do they speak English or Mandarin? Will I be a disgrace to my culture? Should I just leave and not get the bubble tea that I flew thousands of miles to get? I pushed through these thoughts and confidently walked into the shop.  

I walked through the pastel doorway and looked at the menu on the table. At first glance of the menu,  I knew that I had trouble coming my way. I tried to look for pictures, but all I found were Chinese characters covering the paper. I pulled out my phone and tried to find WiFi in the shop, because I could not use my cellular data. I always hated how I could not use data when I’m in a different country. Finally, after looking into a bunch of different internet devices, I opened Google Translate. At least I knew how to copy words into Google Translate because of a Chinese class that I took for two years. I found my green milk tea on the menu and slowly walked up to the cash register. 

I took a deep breath and told myself that I could do this. I asked the cashier, “Nǐ hǎo, wǒ kěyǐ diǎn zhège ma (Hello can I order this)?” I pointed at the menu where it said green milk tea. My strategy was just to point at what I want and hoped that the worker would understand, but she started to ask more questions. She asked, “Nín xiǎng yào lǜ nǎichá zhòng de qìpào ma (would you like to add bubbles with your green tea)?” I started to feel sweat dripping down from my head, but then I realized that I knew what she was saying. I nodded and gave her the largest bill I had, hoping it would be enough to cover the price. She gave me my change and a number, so I would know when my drink was ready. I looked up at the board and noticed that they were only up to number 30, but I was number 42. I walked out of the shop and decided to wait outside with my mother. She asked me, “What took you so long?” I didn’t reply to her, because my mother knew I would struggle. After waiting for a few minutes, I saw my number pop up on the board. 

I picked up my drink from the counter and immediately got the straw and popped the lid. It was so satisfying to take a big gulp of the icy drink. The chewy tapioca and milky tea paired well together. The fresh drink cooled my body from the heat wave that was overwhelming Taiwan. The drink seemed more traditional when I had it in Taiwan because it made me feel like a native. I saw everyone around me with a cold drink walking around and exploring the city.  

The sun was about to go to sleep, which meant the night markets were about to open. My family and I decided to go to the famous Shilin night market. We walked through one of the many entrances that lead us into the chaos. The sight of so many people in one place was overwhelming. Even though the Shilin night market was the largest market, it also was the most crowded.  Everyone was walking two miles per hour, so unlike the fast pace of the New York City life. Everyone was stopping to enjoy the fragrant street food and vendors. Life in Taiwan felt different, but it is still a part of me. I knew that I would never become a native here, but I left with more knowledge of the culture. Everything that happened on the streets of  Taiwan influenced me into who I am today. I am still an Asian-American, and nothing could change who I have become, but there is more to my identity than I know.