Walking Taipei (part 2)

Functionality and faith amongst the concrete

After writing my first impressions of Taipei, I tried to leave, frustrated by its coldness, a product of its scale, newness, and a business-at-all-costs attitude.

Thankfully I wasn’t able to change my flight, so I stayed for another ten days and by focusing on the patches of warmth I’d seen, got a better sense of the city.

That meant ignoring the commercial downtown, an economically important, wealthy, but small part of the city, and concentrating entirely¹ on the mostly older, less central neighborhoods of apartment buildings, scooter repair shops, ground floor manufacturers, temples, 7-Elevens, lotto stores, and open air markets.²

I spent most of my time in the temples and 7-Elevens, because both are sanctums of quiet and calm in a city that is neither of those things. Places you can jump into, out of the stream of zooming scooters, to catch your breath and find a little room to yourself, and maybe a moment of transcendence.

Both are always an option because there are 7-Elevens³ and temples on almost every block, often side by side.

It might seem odd to pair 7-Elevens with temples under the label of sanctums. One is bright and all about commerce, the other dark, and in theory, all about spirituality. But 7-Elevens, despite being over lit and stuffed with stuff, are surprisingly calm, and the temples, while under lit, are aesthetically loud — ornate and stuffed with stuff — and surprisingly (at least to me) about commerce. Or at least a fortune obtained by making money.