A tale of two cities

I discovered that Taipei is two cities – separated by a thin veneer of earth. Above ground is chaos. Below ground is order.

The above ground city is a mish-mash of buildings – greys and browns and rust, appearing to be cobbled together from whatever materials were handy or in vogue at the time, new atop of old. They arrange themselves in no particular order with just enough room in between for thoroughfares of various sizes with names like ‘build the country, ‘filial and loyal’, and ‘honest and sincere’. It takes a big street to carry those expectations, at least 4 lanes in each direction, and these are criss-crossed by myriad lanes and numbered alleys some so narrow in places that a car and a person can’t pass without one doing damage to the other. The scooter is master of all – moving from street to sidewalk at will, hanging u-ees and buttonhook turns. And individuality reigns supreme. Masses of humanity and vehicles non-stop moving in no particular order and changing direction on a whim, a sale sign or a gust of rain.

Down below is cool, quiet white. The hum of technology. Streams of people descending from above, paying to be huddled together, molded and shaped into subway packets and moved from here to there. Large volume, small volume, same process. Queuing lines painted on cement platforms to funnel people into cars. Peer pressure and policemen with orange wands keeping the order in a constant stream of destinations being reached.

Today I took refuge in the underground city. Away from the heat, the humidity, the pouring rain and the craziness up above. And at the end of the day, I find myself settled. The dinginess of the hotel has become quaint and a string of vegetarian restaurants have been scouted (and one sampled). My clothes are laid out and my book-bag is packed for tomorrow’s first day of school.