My essay Salty Like Tears is the Grand Prize winner of the Betty L. Yu and Jin C. Yu Creative Writing Prize, judged by Charles Yu, Shawna Yang Ryan, and Alvina Ling. It seems only fitting that this essay, which has been a very long time in the making and meditates on aspects of Taiwanese identity and generational trauma, is published on TaiwaneseAmerican.org.
March is the rainiest month in Taiwan. Not the afternoon cloudbursts of a tropical summer, nor the furious monsoons of early fall; in the time between winter and spring, the sky is a steady stream of black. But this was the period when the boys and I could spend some extended time on the island. During that first family trip to Taiwan when the boys were seven and ten, the kids and I stayed in Taipei after my husband flew back to the states for work. My job was flexible, and my older son was just months away from starting middle school, with its more rigorous academics and mercurial social system. Let’s go to Taiwan so the kids can get a glimpse of the motherland, I said. But really, I was the one who wanted the experience. We could live like locals in Taipei—and of course, eat more Taiwanese food. But as the days passed, my understanding of this place only grew cloudier.
One of the things I really wanted to do in Taipei was to eat at the Michelin-starred restaurant known for its xiao long bao. At the time, Din Tai Fung had several locations in Southern California, but none in the Bay Area. I had heard about their legendary xiao long bao, with skins so smooth and evenly pleated, they did not stick to the bamboo steamer or break open, spilling the precious broth cushioning the filling.
My father had other ideas, which focused around the Taipei of his youth.
Read the rest of the story at TaiwaneseAmerican.org