Taiwan Beyond the Skyline

Taiwan recently took the world’s notice when free solo climber Alex Honnold free solo’d Taipei 101 with millions watching. When he reached the tip of the 11th-tallest building in the world, the livestream and his infamous selfies introduced Taiwan, my home, to the world. 

The selfie showed the dramatic juxtaposition of Taipei, with tall skyscrapers surrounded by green mountains. The view presented Taiwan as a futuristic and new metropolis. But the images in my head of Taiwan are not the skyscrapers. It is the microscopic details, the narrow streets and alleys that make Taiwan feel like home to me. 

Taipei 101 sits in the center of the most vibrant part of the city, and from 1667 feet above, the city’s imperfections were hard to spot. But up close, the tiny alleyways are the fabric of life that surrounds the central part of the city. The old, aging street that seems empty and dull at first glance is full of personality. The faded signs, old apartment buildings, scooters that threaded like punctuation, and vendors who have been serving the same recipe for decades. Street-side food is what Taiwanese people grew up eating and is an integral part of our culture. Those narrow lanes and fluorescent lights are the tiny details that make Taipei feel human.

Those same small streets and aging buildings are also the reason the city struggles to grow. The city continues to struggle with efforts to redevelop aging buildings that no longer meet the modern-day earthquake protection standards. For a long time, I did not understand why people were unwilling to leave a place they had lived in for years in exchange for a newer, safer apartment. More recently, I finally began to see the bigger picture behind this stubbornness. These buildings, as old as they are, carry memories. They hold the routines of the older generation growing up and starting their own shops. These are the same people who gave Taipei an old flavor, unreplicable and irreplaceable. If Taipei were stripped of those buildings, it would lose its personality. I would define them, because they are what make up my home 

These small streets and aging buildings that make up Taipei are also the same issues that are hindering Taipei from growth. I used to not understand why people were unwilling to give up a few years of where they resided for a better house. But recently, I finally understood the bigger picture. If Taiwan were stripped of these old buildings that bring it its personality, which I hold on so dearly. If someone were to change it, I would defend as well because that is my home. 

Taiwan’s flaws stretch from aging buildings, air pollution from heavy traffic, and the frenzy of scooter and car congestion. They make daily life harder and limit the city’s long-term health. I want to bring innovation and improvement to our city while preserving the soul that lives in alleys and food stalls. That comes with urban planning that values community over bland efficiency and solutions that solve the issues without erasing the city’s character.

Back to the livestream, watching Honnold that day was the first time in my life when I felt that people from around the world got a glimpse of the island’s beauty, rather than the endless discussions about the country’s ongoing geopolitical tensions with China. 

When I grew up in Taiwan, I treated being Taiwanese as simply where I was born. But when I came to Cornell, I noticed something different. When I said “I am from Taiwan,” people lifted their heads. The subsequent question that would often follow, “Do you think China is going to take over?”, came up again and again. At first, I brushed it off. But the more I was asked, the more I thought about why people assume Taiwan’s story is only about geopolitics. I realized that my identity as Taiwanese often becomes a talking point, and that the people I meet have probably never met anyone from Taiwan before. I started to see that being Taiwanese here is not just a fact about birthplace, but a responsibility to represent a small but rich culture. I have a chance to show what Taiwan really looks like. Not only the glossy skyline, but the alleys, the food stalls, the stubborn, beautiful imperfections that make it home.