Arriving in a new place, whether as a visitor or a new resident, many things are unfamiliar and strange. Sometimes they’re totally incomprehensible.
Where I come from, dogs love riding in a car with the window open. Here, they ride on a scooter, and the whole world is one great, open window. The result is little dogs, big dogs, fluffy dogs and short-tailed dogs all zooming around towns, cities and countryside, up mountain roads and down urban alleyways, leaning into the bends, ears flapping, or hopping onto the footplate of parked bikes in anticipation of another happy commute.
I feel like somewhere deep in my soul, I must actually be Taiwanese: their vision is my childhood vision, refined and executed to perfection. Though I do wonder if some dogs, given a choice, would rather not ride shotgun on a perilous, open-air missile, weaving in and out of near-death and petro-fumes, tail and nose millimetres away from catastrophe.