👉 Italiano
I see Tamsui
I open the window and see Tamsui. Sometimes. No, I don't have a superpower which lets me see thousands of miles away. But at least, yes, I have a window to the east. And sometimes I think of my Tamsui, where my second Taiwanese life is based. This is a tourist city in Taiwan. And it had struck me since the first visits to the country. In 2007 the first time.
So I was thinking about how to present it: I could also have made a classic introduction, one immediately understandable by the reader. But then I remembered that I had already done the work. And not out of laziness, but only because I believe in stories and in their ability to carry away, I will use the words from one of my novels (three of them are partially set in Taiwan).
I thought of that girl, her name was Jia Qi, whom I had known in Tamsui: a not very big city near Taipei, connected to it by the metro. A city that is often considered as one of the areas of the metropolis. Along the river, where Tamsui is located, couples and families from Taipei go for a walk in the evening, entertaining themselves in the shops and with the typical games of the village festivals. They're arranged densely along a bank of the river from which the city takes its name. Of course, I always used to go there alone and perhaps the place was not too suitable for me. But I used to like to have an ice cream or something else to eat and sit on a bench near the river, looking more often towards the comings and goings, to people's poses, than at the water stream. This was how I often happened to observe equally lonely girls, looking towards infinity. Many of them are simply early and await someone else; the others may have different reasons for staying there. In any case, they are quite numerous; once, among these there was also Jia Qi. And it happened that I started talking to her.
[…]
I arrived in Tamsui in a short time and decided to imitate the steps of that previous adventure, stopping to buy the same chocolate ice cream and directing myself to the same bench. I expected to meet another delightful figure, similar to that of Jia Qi: a girl of opaque beauty, but with sad, big and magnetic eyes. Maybe more magnetic, maybe sadder, maybe bigger. I did not understand anything about Jia Qi, but in a few moments, I had been swallowed by his iris, which had replaced my horizons like a ring of matter around Saturn. And instead, when I got there, sitting on the same bench I found an old betel nut chewer, who spat almost towards where I was supposed to find the new Jia Qi.
Just a few years ago, I used to go to Tamsui as a tourist: that is, I didn't wake up in Tamsui every morning as I do now when I'm in Taiwan. Now I begin to know its streets, its shops. Although these change often, as in the whole country. Everything spins, everything changes and never stops. Even the Tamsui riverside has changed (quite a lot) over the years. In the past two years, alas, even my "cafe" disappeared. That was not a real cafe. But I'll talk about it later.
I was saying, I get up in the morning and find myself in what I consider my city. I don't live in the center, but still, it's a fairly lively area. And sometimes, only sometimes, because doing it daily would not be very healthy ... Sometimes I go to have breakfast in a "mei er mei". They are usually small family-run eatery, budget and simply furnished. They would be restaurants for breakfast only, but for me, this meal ends up becoming a brunch. And I don't think I'm the only one, because these places are usually open even until 1 pm. This also means something, isn't it? They have different types of dishes, from the more oriental ones, often based on vegetables, to the westernized burgers. Someone may be thinking: "Stray, as an Italian, can you eat vegetables for breakfast?" It took some time and I still don't look for them today, but the answer is yes. If there isn't anything else, I can eat for breakfast whatever I can eat for other meals. As the Taiwanese do. However in the "mei er mei", I usually take a "dan bing", a kind of savory crepe made with eggs, with variable filling. For me bacon and cheese, thanks. In short, I start the day lightly...
Another Asian superpower that I have acquired is the one of being able to eat at any time. Because Taiwan offers you this possibility. And so I can soak myself into Tamsui without too many calculations: I will eat when hungry, wherever I will be at that moment. Then I will first go north, to the slightly more mountainous part. But the sea is not far away: in Taiwan you often find them close, you just need to turn 180°.
Here, discreetly hidden and unknown, is the Wuji Tianyuan Temple, a fairly recent construction. It's a nice building to climb, to admire a green landscape and enjoy a little silence. Among other things, near the temple (provided that in the meantime it has not been replaced) there is a convenience store: a sort of proximity shop, which in Taiwan does a bit of everything. This one has some tables outside. It's not something that is often seen around here. And so I decide to have a coffee. But not a normal one: I have one with a nice mixture of milk, caramel and something else. Cold, with ice. I know, guys: my Italianness score falls visibly.
I'm getting closer to the city, but I still don't want to dive into the markets, neither in the more touristy ones nor in the more traditional ones. I walk around the alleys, where some street art has been sprinkled in recent years. Here you can also find some small cafes, not those of the big chains, which are the most popular in Taiwan. These too are usually family-run: sometimes the owner has obtained the room from a part of his home. And it happens that he lives directly on the upper floor. There are also those with cats inside, if you like the genre. It is a different Tamsui, which tries to insinuate into the more blatantly commercial one. I know it now, because I feel at home here, every time I go back. And sifting through my old novels, I realized that I had described this feeling too.
Once again I was in my Tamsui, the place that most of all in Taiwan used to make my soul sway, although it was probably not the most beautiful. After all, it is only an ancient (but not very ancient) city which partly develops along the river of the same name. And many Taiwanese themselves do not like it, because they consider it particularly chilly and breezy. I have never understood how much chillier it can be compared to the nearby Taipei, which is on the same metro line. In any case, I never even understood the effect this city has on me. Maybe it's for the river, maybe for the people who walk, usually cheerfully, along it; maybe it's for its internal streets, full of shops and life. Perhaps it's because of people like me, who linger dreaming in front of the water stream. I don't know, but I know that every time I go back I have the impression of being born there, of having lived there for at least a couple of centuries and that my life belongs to this city.
There's also an old fort, first Spanish, then Dutch, then... It changed many owners. There's also an European-style church around a hundred years old. But that's not where I really want to go with my mind. So I get on the bus, I bring my transport card in contact: it has to be done twice, when getting on and off. I sit down, because in the imagination the seat is always found. And I let the bus bring me to the riverside, probably near the metro stop, where most of the shops are concentrated. In fact, this is the center of the city. What is now a metro line was previously the terminus of a railway line built by the Japanese. Yes, there have been many peoples in this beautiful land.
It was here that I discovered that I had become practically a local. Once an elderly gentleman came to ask me for information. It was a simple one: he just wanted to know where the metro entrance was. But among many Taiwanese, he asked me: a foreigner which certainly does not have the face of a local. It surprised me, but it pleased me.
The river is behind the station. It is called Tamsui (you also find it written as Danshui), like the city. And the pronunciation of both? That's a little more complicated. Nearby was once the cafe: my cafe. It wasn't a real cafe: it was again a convenience store that used to set tables outside with umbrellas. Let me repeat: this is unusual in Taiwan. And in fact, it only lasted a few years. Now (perhaps) there is a different convenience store, but without tables. I used to like that place. Often people sat without even buying anything. Not me, who like a good Italian (I regained some points, come on) loved to sit and have a coffee or a beer, while leading my gaze towards the river.
I would like to do it now too. And I also would like to get up and dive for a few minutes in the crowd coming from Taipei. Too many people, on weekends. And then escape from them and get closer to the river, maybe at dusk.
I'm here. It is Friday evening and, despite the uninviting weather, there are still a few people strolling along the river. Maybe it's because it's still pretty early. Before long, almost everyone will go away and I could find myself looking at this water stream. The Tamsui River flows slowly and serene, it does not care about everything that happens beyond its banks. It flows and seems to have no interest in reaching its mouth, perhaps near, perhaps far away. He does not seem eager to reunite with the sea. It flows, flows, lucid and imperturbable. If it will rain, it will absorb the new tribute of the sky and if the heat will dry it up, sooner or later it will be reborn. The Tamsui River always wins.
I let myself become enchanted, waiting for darkness to fall completely. A couple of onigiris to calm the appetite. A cold beer, some street artists who sing songs on request. People who slowly thins out, letting the day softly melt away. I am still in front of my Italian window: it is a new day and Tamsui is still down there, wedged in my thoughts.
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