Taipei Thoughts

Dear Krystal,

Today I thought of you as I walked along the streets of Taipei. With a map in hand, we trudged downtown, this time on our own, braving the MRT and riding the taxi with the little Chinese we know. I found that most throughout the day, my thoughts kept leading back to you.


As I gaze at the Taipei girls of Ximen and Shulin, with their curly light brown hair, false eyelashes, glittery eyeshadows, acrylic fingernails, short shorts and golden wedges, I wonder if you still get teased by your classmates for your unruly hair.




As I sip my pearl milk tea while searching for a unique-wont-find-this-in-manila top ( I am fixated with finding the perfect 3/4 sleeve loose top that will cover my arms), I remember I still owe you a birthday present. While clutching the handrails of the metrorail and keeping to the right so the others can pass by on my left, I thought about your future. What would your life be like after ten years? Will you be as carefree as these girls as I remember you as a child with not a care in the world? Or would you be saddled by thoughts of escaping the Philippines in the hope of helping your parents?



Would you go to Dubai, or Singapore just like your mama or most of our relatives? Would you even consider staying in the country and fighting it out along with the rest of our 97 million citizens, hoping one day to make enough to buy a house and a car?



Would you think that chance is too small to even consider?



Would I get to see you drive in a road that is smooth and evenly paved, or would you be hopping and skipping on potholes and broken-tiled curbs, clutching your bag while walking, lest it be slashed.




Would you be hand in hand with a young man on a Saturday afternoon, checking out the bookshop or the mall, or would you be thinking of Canada as you try to cover your mouth with handkerchief while chasing the jeepney for a ride home?





I ate dinner at a Pho Bak Vietnam noodle house near the Sun Yat Sen train station and thought about the Filipina who was washing dishes at this restaurant. She may just be a dishwasher here, but she probably sent her siblings to school and has a concrete 2-storey house in the province. The pots were huge and there were two wailing kids amidst the pile of dirty dishes near our dining table. I wondered if this same area would later on be her sleeping quarters.


You were on my mind as we passed the LCD screens on building facades; would you get to see this back home? Would you live to see a more progressive Philippines where the roads are evenly paved enough to host an F1 race, the middle class can afford a house, where the government subsidizes all your medical needs, and corruption is thwarted, where the police can not be bribed?





As I browsed through rows and rows of clothes and stuff made from China, I thought about what you would become. Would you get the chance to meet people from different countries or would you be too shy to converse in English?


While I lay in bed in my hotel, I tried to imagine you flying the way I do. I do not know what the future holds for the children of our country. I know more and more want to get out as soon as school is finished. I could not imagine what the future may hold for a ten year old girl like you.

Today I thought of you as I walked along the streets of Taipei, but did not realize I would think about the future of my country too.