Standing on the inside of the red door one last time
And wondering what it means to root seek
My paternal grandmother passed away a few weeks ago and I flew back to Taiwan for the service. Over the course of the trip, I spent a lot of time thinking about “root seeking” and what it means.
I’ve always loved going to Taiwan. As a kid, it was associated with delicious snacks, the cutest stationary and toys, and so many games and activities – whether it was splash pads, claw machines, or other games at the night market. As an adult, the list shifted more heavily towards food with a healthy side of shopping (usually for stationary, home goods, fun gadgets, and clothes).
In recent years, I’ve spent a lot of time dissecting whether Taiwan would be such an exciting place to visit if it weren’t for all of these aforementioned attractions. If it were just to visit family, without all the other activities sprinkled in, would I have still loved going so much?
My conclusion is that it probably would have been equally fascinating. There is a part of me that is drawn to the place because I believe like there’s a version of me that should belong there. There’s a parallel life where I was born and raised in Taiwan, and I could have been any of the random people I encountered on a given day – a commuter on the train, a waitress at a restaurant, etc. In that life, instead of struggling to order the food I want because I only know how to read three of the five characters in the name of the dish, I can do this fluently and in an accent that sounds perfectly local. In that life, I probably even ride a moped around the city, or perhaps I choose to bike around the chaotic streets.
When I was younger and visiting Taiwan, I’d keep a tally of the non-Chinese people I saw during the trip.
As I look back at that now, I realize that there was a part of me that found the others comfortingly familiar. They reminded me of the world I come from and the place I call home. They reminded me of myself, because even though I may not have been easily picked out of a crowd in Taiwan as an outsider, I ultimately was and am an outsider.
The experience I have in Taiwan varies quite a bit depending on whether I am with my parents or on my own. When I’m on my own, a lot of things become harder. The day to day of operating in a different language – one in which I have first grade fluency, at best – weighs on me. My brain feels extra tired by the end of the day – sometimes just from the work of listening to Chinese all day long. I feel overstimulated more easily and if E and I are traveling together, we squabble a lot more than usual. I feel similarly in France or Spain when I try to operate mostly in the local language, and it was actually first on a Europe trip that I identified this particular sort of brain soreness.
It’s crazy to think that this is how so many immigrants feel every single day. And I’m feeling this way only from being on vacation! I’m not even trying to make a living and create a life for myself in this new environment.
It goes without saying that this small window of empathy makes me respect and admire what all immigrants have done even more than I did before. But also, at the same time, it makes me think about how backwards it is that I feel this sense of otherness in Taiwan (and China as well, for that matter).
Three of my four grandparents were born in China and moved to Taiwan as adults, and so the history of immigration goes even deeper in my family than just my parents moving to North America. In each generation, we’ve moved to a new place, put down roots and found a place to feel at ease and call home. And yet each subsequent generation has moved on to yet another place, only to relinquish that hard earned sense of ease and belonging.
I don’t yet have any answers but it’s certainly made me wonder what I want for myself and future generations. Do I want to return to where I was raised so that the sense of belonging persists and the next generation is spared of this questioning? Or is the questioning and the being kept on your toes actually part of the beauty of it, because I sit at the intersection of so many cultures and can chameleon as I need? Is it perhaps about finding a close inner circle of friends in life who understand you deeply and then plunging yourself into new, unfamiliar environments to feel challenged and to have your curiosity tickled?
I can’t help but think about how some of my favourite conversations when I travel are with friends who’ve lived in multiple places and have ultimately moved to wherever it is that I’m visiting. I love asking them mundane things like how do they pay their utility bills, how do leases work, and what sort of health insurance do employers provide. I learn so much through these conversations and I learn to appreciate what is or isn’t good about what I have been afforded, and it often leaves me with a fluttering excitement to consider alternate lives I could lead if I moved to other places.
To bring this back to where I started, I went back to my grandma’s house where I spent many weeks as a child. I felt apprehensive that perhaps this would be my last time there and walked around, documenting everything. It was unsettling to think that perhaps this would be my last time visiting that particular part of Taiwan. It made my stomach turn a bit, thinking about whether Taiwan as a whole will eventually become a place just like that red door, where I stand on the outside and look in, always hoping to get a better glance of real life, but unable to get in. Will it begin to feel just like when I visit France or Spain, where I can puzzle my way around but I have no deep, personal connection?
At the end of the day, staying connected to my roots is a choice and it is something I will prioritize. That said, I also know that being able to prioritize it is a privilege. It’s not something everyone can choose to do. And I wonder a lot about the “to what end?” of this all. What is the point of root seeking? What is my goal? Does it sit somewhere between finding belonging, knowing myself better, and just satiating certain curiosities? I have no answers but plenty of musings. I’m curious if this resonates with any of you – let me know if it does ⬇️