Taipei Journal: From No Kings to Taiwan and Taichung
The end of March brought Dad’s departure anniversary, time with Mom, buddies, No Kings with my comrades, questions about how to survive autocracy, and a trip across the globe.
After watching a few more episodes from the Civil War, Lincoln’s fumbling for meaning after the losses at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania from July 1-3, 1863, an estimated 51,000 casualties on both sides, the bloodiest single battle of the entire war. Mom thought the doc was magnificent, recalling the cemetery in Columbus. We should go some time, she says.
The next morning, we had some coffee.
Getting ready for the big No Kings Demo, hanging with Mom and Shannon, looking at the news. Mom smiled and recalled a trip to the Harvard Art museum, seeing the Seated Buddha in Dharmachakra Mudra (Turning the Wheel of the Law) with a smile. Lots of laughing on a Saturday.
I got to the rally early.
"No Kings, yes queens!!!" we chant, the sun out, marching, the sun shining, Rise and Resisting, Singing, Sing Out Louiseing, America the Pitiful. Demo selfie with Jay. Seeing friends, walking up from 55th and 6th, where I run into Norm and Karina, with the Brooklyn Resisters, up 7th, run into Ryan, comparing notes about ACTUP the week before, stumbling into Ron the poet, up to Columbus Circle, around the park, down Broadway, running into Andrew with Trillionaires against Mamdani, stumbling into Rev Billy, looking cold, talking about Bayard Rustin and their meetings at the Quaker Meeting House, and Joan Baez and rolling that rock up the hill over and over again, looking for my buddies in the PSC, who've now merged into the crowd.
No Kings was the major subject of our meeting two nights before, connecting immigrant protections and labor rights. The PSC call for the day:
"In response to the Trump administration’s escalated, violent attacks on residents of Minnesota and nationwide, the No Kings Coalition has called for our next non-violent mass mobilization on March 28. When our families are under attack and costs are pushing people to the brink, silence is not an option. We will defend ourselves, our neighbors and our communities against this administration’s unjust and cruel acts of violence; history shows that authoritarianism is vulnerable to mass public mobilizations.
The PSC contingent will gather by 1:30 PM at 62nd St. and Central Park West on the park side and will step off at 2 PM heading south down Broadway. At Times Square, we will converge with another stream of the march heading down 7th Avenue before continuing on to end at 34th Street"
The main march takes place on two avenues, moving South from Central Park and Columbus Circle, converging at Times Square, where we can’t move. My friend Kate, who is marshalling at the back of the march, is glad for the late people still arriving at 3 PM. There would have been nowhere to go if they arrived earlier.
After two hours of wrestling with the crowds, singing, and greeting friends, I found my way to Brooklyn to meet Baby C for a snack.
Our flight is not till 1 AM, but we’ve heard there might be crowds. So we grab our bags and set out, making it through the security in no time.
Time for a snack and a snapshot on the road, contemplating another journey. Perusing through a few shots from #NoKings. Will we ever be the same? No one knows. Magnificent day in the sun. All you fascists gonna lose!!! There’s an abundant silliness and longing to the signs from the demos.
After some cards and a beer, we find our way to our gate, hours early, grabbing a nap, before our 16 hour journey.
Dozing off, i read some, write a few notes, read some more, watch snippets of Chinese movies, along our flight to Taipei. I watch the travel route, North and West, across Canada, Alaska, through the Bering Sea, across the Pacific, past Russia, Japan, to Taiwan. The Portuguese and then Japanese controlled it before WWII. The Chinese have designs on the Island, but they've only ever controlled it for 5 years, and that led to a national uprising, in 1947, 40 years of a White Terror era of repression. Since then democracy. For years China flew fighters over the region. But now that's stopped. No one knows why. We saw Hong Kong before the mainland took over. The fight for democracy is on. "Declaring Taiwan to be a part of China is like saying North America belongs to Europe," says Chris Horton in Ghost World: The Story of Taiwan and Its Struggle for Survival. "Both sets share historical links through migration and colonialism, yet maintain fundamentally distinct identities. Just as the first people who populated North America were not European, Taiwan's original inhabitants are not Chinese, arriving from the Asian mainland before Chinese culture existed."
Looking forward to seeing what the island has to show us.
A twelve hour time difference, I can’t tell what day it is by the time we land. We left Saturday afternoon, arriving Monday morning. It's Sunday night in New York, morning in Taiwan.
As usual, the phone data and sim cards we’ve tried to update are not quite connecting us.
But the train from the airport to the middle of the city works fine, taking us through lush grees, trees in the distance, trees and urban hubs merging and blending, in a strange harmony.
No phones, no data, no urber. Cabs don’t take cards, we run to grab cash. Local atms don’t work.
We find a bank. That works.
We’ve walked in this moment on other trips, in Sarajevo, stumbling upon graves and memorials on the way into town.
But it's nice to get a ride. The US dollar still goes a long way here.
At the hotel, we drift off to sleep a little before we make our way out.
Day one
Starting our day, a hazy out of it dreamlike vibe, feeling the breeze stumbling by an old temple, old trees, through alleys, where people are eating. Where are we, we think. It feels like an old movie, looking at an old photograph of Chiang Kai-shek, President Franklin D. Roosevelt, Prime Minister Winston Churchill, Madame Chiang Kai-shek at the Cairo Conference 1943.
We are still trying to get some words down. Taipei, the most common way to say "hi" is Nǐ hǎo (你好 - nee how) and "thank you" is Xièxiè (謝謝 - sheh sheh). Down ChiFeng Street, we walk, past food stalls, old trees, people out eating, sitting in bookstore cafes. Wonderful trees and vines hang about. Funny translation combustion names for thrift shops, 'foodriot' 'melting finger.' It starts to drizzle. We stop for a tea. Chet Baker's 'My Funny Valentine Plays.' Baby C compares the White Terror of 1947 to 87 here to post war East Berlin. They suffered a lot. And appreciate what freedom feels like. China war planes that flew overhead for years are conspicuously absent. The war pushed up gas prices everywhere.
And keep walking about the neighborhood between MRT Zhongshan and Shuanglian stations in Taipei’s Datong District, looking about the old with modern boutiques, sushi, soup shops and thrift stores. Once a hub for auto parts and hardware, it filled with cafés, shops, and art spaces set within 80-year-old traditional buildings. We stop for soup and dumplings. Not a word of English, we point, and they bring us something delicious.
For dinner, Caroline's college friend takes us to Din Tai Fung, "Taiwan’s world-famous restaurant brand, celebrated for its refined take on traditional Taiwanese cuisine delivered with exceptional consistency and value. Founded in 1949..." We enjoy truffle and pork dumplings, fried rice, peashoots, spinach, and steamed chicken. With cool white uniforms, the chefs cooked away. Sooo good, I never want to eat again. A history of food and place unfolds as we eat, watching staff and customers banter away. There are things we can and cannot say. Histories beneath, obscured, ideas and conflicts. And then the present steps into the fray, joining the dialogue energetic, chaotic, challenging the situation. The NY Times reports, "Xi Invites Taiwan’s Opposition Leader to Talk ‘Peace’ Ahead of Trump Summit …The planned visit by Cheng Li-wun appears designed to show Beijing’s influence and convey a benign message ahead of the summit with President Trump."
A lot of families never made it through the White Terror; others were left unscathed. But just because it did not have an impact on some, does not mean the harm is any less real.
One friend in New York watched her marriage fall apart when her husband said he didn’t see what was wrong with what was going on in the US. The markets were still fine. She replied that her friends were getting deported, families separated. Just because it's not happening to you doesn’t mean it's not happening. Studying the history of the autocracy, it feels like a playbook we are watching, attacks on science and subjectivity, those who insist one plus one equals three, and those who see two.
Day Two
We take the trains out to meet up with our guide outside exit 1 of MRT Longshan Temple Station about ten minutes early after a busy train ride through the city, through the morning rush hour, people on phones, signs on the subway exporting people not to "sexually harass" each other. You'd think this is a given. But the signs are everywhere. We walk to find a coffee before the tour, taking in the old buildings and shops crumbling about the old city within the new. A cat crosses us by. A woman opens her shop. We take a right down an alley, a temple in the distance, some food stalls, signs for massages. A few people are cooking, people sitting about, old men, a few elderly ladies who look like they've worked all night. Even before the tour, we're seeing glimpses of trade from the informal red-light districts of the Wanhua District (near Longshan Temple/Xichang Street) and the Linsen North Road area, bars, tea houses, and massage parlors, operating in a legal gray area. While prostitution is technically illegal unless in designated zones (which haven't been implemented), the trade operates discreetly. The Wanhua District is known as the oldest, most traditional area, particularly around Xichang Street and Huaxi Street, with a more rundown, less polished feel.
With coffee in hand, we arrive for our tour by the subway. Susie and Jason introduce themselves and the tour through, "the past 300 years of Taiwanese history ...in West Taipei, the old Taipei" through "memories of colonization to remains of Chiang Kai-shek’s Chinese dream...The west end of Taipei was once the center of political and economic activities of the city and where modern development started... from the traditional beliefs of the late Qing dynasty, to the cultural shifts under Japanese ruling, then to the political landscape after the arrival of the Nationalist government in 1949... the stories and legends behind them. Walking from the past to the present, Taipei is shaped by multiple cultures and historic events.
Susie walks us through some of the key dates:
1562, the Portuguese arrive.
1624, the Dutch and Spanish.
1664, the Ming dynasty expelled the Dutch.
The Qing dynasty ruled Taiwan from 1683 to 1895, in a period marked by ethnic uprisings, battles with indigenous people.
The Japanese came in 1895, ruling through World War II, before a Civil War between the ROC and Mao’s Chinese Communists. The ROC takes over Taiwan in 1949.
“Its a controversial history, “ says Susie, taking us to our first stop at Longshan Temple in the heart of west end Taipei, built at the end of the Quin Dynasty, bombed by the US in World War II and rebuilt. “Enter at the side of the dragon,” says Susie, walking us through the folklore of the place, people praying about us, incense, a god of education, and Quan Yin, a goddess of compassion, ever transforming, a god of love.
“Temples here offer a mix of Taoism and Buddhism," says Susie.
Next stop, the Bopiliao Historic Block Bopiliao, literally meaning “skin-peeling”.
The oldest preserved city block in Taiwan, from the Quin era, the streets wind and curve, anything but linear, with print shops, a commercial district. Immigrants moved here from China.
The Chinese walking dead, their zombies used to roam here, says Susie, before the Japanese moved in, modernizing, creating linear streets.
We stroll through the old buildings, with artists celebrating layers of history.
My favorite parts of the tour involve the streets and stories. I ask Jason if he's going to embellish a bit for us. Of course, I'm going to add a few hot takes, he says.
Onto Over to Neijiang Street in Taipei’s Wanhua District, a historic artery on the southern edge of Ximending, merging late Qing Dynasty heritage with Japanese colonial-era development. Ximen Market is a quiet boundary between the gay bars and youth culture of Ximending and the temple-filled heart of old Wanhua.
Walking by vendors selling noodles and dumplings, Jason leads us to an octagon shaped, old stone structure the Japanese designed, in 1908, called the Red House, thats gone through many lives, from a market to a music venue, to a movie theater where queer people used to meet. We’ve made progress, certainly, says Jason. Is there room for improvement, certainly, he confesses. Still gay marriage is accepted here. He talks about drag performers here. And the reverence for Josephine Baker. He tells us about parks where queer people cruise. And places he goes dancing. Walks us inside the Red House, the old theater here that burned down 2000, only recently restored as a creative hub.
It reminds Caroline of Goodbye, Dragon Inn, a 2003 Taiwanese film directed by Tsai Ming-liang, the story of the last rainy night of an old, nearly empty Taipei cinema as it screens a restored version of King Hu's 1967 wuxia classic Dragon Inn. Some of the actors from the original are on hand, watching in the lonely old cinema.
During the break, we keep on talking about Jason’s research on dance and ethnography, queering swing dance. He strolls us outside, stopping at a replica of the old city walls, the Presidential Office Building Only a few steps away.
“I want to tell you my story,” says Jason. “Taiwan identity is manufactured here,” he says. Isn’t it everywhere, I think. He tells us about the parties here, Green for the progressives, Blue for the ROC, Chiang Kai-shek’s old party. And White, an austensibly racist party with their English slogan, ‘Vote Right, vote right!’ It's disgusting, he says. And tells us his story. He was in the military, teaching Chinese in Panama. When we arrived, we were welcomed. But within a few weeks, we got word that Panama stopped recognizing Taiwan, officially severing diplomatic ties with Taiwan on June 13, 2017, to establish formal relations with the People's Republic of China, recognizing the "One China" policy. “Tears filled my eyes watching them take down our flag,” says Jason. “We had to leave immediately.”
He told us another story about a dance competition he took part in in 2024 in France. “The theme was dance between cities, city against city. I got to compete against a dancer from Beijing. I would have thought the organizers would have separated us. But they left it, Beijing vs Taipei. We hugged when we met before the competition. As I finished my dance, I pulled out the Taiwan flag. After the competition was over, a repsentative from Beijing called the organizers asking them to ask me to pull the video down. I said how about if I take down the flag part and leave the rest of the performance. They said the hug made it look like China was accepting our position. I never heard from them again.”
“When I danced in China, I tried to get in the line back with the foreigners. But the authorities said no, you go through the line with the Chinese.”
It all sounds like what Hong Kong went through. We are not Chinese, my friends there said repeatedly. Now they are going through their own White Terror.
Jason led us to the Peace Memorial Park Formerly established in 1908 as “Taihoku New Park”. “Any time you have something named peace, it's going to be for something that was not peaceful,” he told us, telling the story of the 228 Massacre. Chiang Kai-shek ROC was fighting Mao’s Communists in China. It was February 28, 1947. A woman in Taipei was selling cigarettes illegally, presumably imports. And the police approached her, telling her she had to stop. Listening, I recall Eric Garner's death on July 17, 2014, when Garner, an African American man, was killed in the New York City borough of Staten Island by Daniel Pantaleo, a New York City Police Department (NYPD) officer, after putting him in a prohibited chokehold while arresting him. He was selling cigarettes too.
Back to 228, a crowd formed as the woman screamed about the police taking her cigarettes. The police arrest her. More people come. A riot ensues. The police fire off a shot into the air. That inadvertently hits a young kid, who dies. Kai-shek sends in troops who arrest anyone who doesn’t speak Mandarin. A massacre follows. No one really knows how many were killed. Yet, the massacre set off the White Terror, cracking down on dissent, much like Eastern European Communism of the same era. Only after the 1996 elections did we start looking at what happened, says Jason, did we start unpacking the secret history of the 228 Massacre.
We walk to the Kai-Shek Memorial Hall Chiang Kai-shek (C.K.S.) Memorial Hall, a monumental space that looks like Tiananmen Square, with a statue of Kai Shek that looks like the Lincoln Memorial. “When he died some praised him as a hero who reduced rents and modernized the economy, usherred in trade and technical innovation, helping Taiwan become one of the Asian Tiger economies. Others hated him. Memory is blurry.
David Calhoun points us back at the massacre:
We’ll spend the rest of the trip trying to figure this space out, looking at the food, the people, the art, the cemeteries and food.
That afternoon, we join a food tour, taking more deliscious flavors than we can imagine, dumplings, rice and pork, a strange clear soup made of passion fruit we had called aiyu jelly. According to Michlain, “Aiyu jelly (愛玉冰) is a famous, refreshing Taiwanese dessert made from the seeds of a creeping fig plant (Ficus pumila var. awkeotsang). It is known for its clear, light, and jiggly texture, often served chilled in a sweet, translucent soup of lemon-honey water, making it a popular remedy for the summer heat.” We enjoy some at our favorite stop on the stop at Little Tiger Cafe on Yongkong Street. According to bloggers, "Yongkang Street is a famous, bustling food and shopping district in Taipei's Da'an District, easily accessed via Dongmen MRT Station. Renowned as a culinary hotspot, it features the original Din Tai Fung, famous mango shaved ice at Smoothie House, and various traditional snacks like scallion pancakes..."
April 1
Woke up to the sound of rain, still jet lagged, odd dreams, old and new, making it out into the day, to catch the high speed train to Taichung, Taiwan's second-largest city. Had a few lost and found moments, trains to nowhere, wrong train, wrong direction, into oblivion, catching ourselves, turning around finally finding our way, into the city, out to see Taiwanese artist Chen Chih-chi's show at the National Taiwan Museum of Fine Arts (NTMoFA), “A Fleeting yet Vibrant Voice: Chen Chih-chi Solo Exhibition " We spent the afternoon at the museum, taking in this exploration the ever evolving notion of Taiwan identity, strolling through this museum like few others i've seen, jet lag still with us,a stgrange lost feeling still grasping us.
We don’t sleep much that night.
Still jet lagged, I go for a morning stroll in Taichung, through the morning. Kids out in black clothes, late-night music still playing in the morning, a cat in the garbage, people out, greeting the day, old city and the new.
Back home, new tests for our wondermayor,
Will he follow the lead of other electeds and support Bushwich Urban Farm?
Will he veto the protest buffer zone bill. According to CNN, "As of late March 2026, New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani is reviewing two protest-related bills passed by the City Council—Intro 1-B (houses of worship) and Intro 175-B (schools)—and has not yet committed to signing or vetoing them. These bills establish buffer zones around religious and educational institutions to restrict the proximity of protesters. They are supported by some as safety measures against rising hate crimes but opposed by civil liberties groups and allies of the mayor, who argue they restrict free speech."
The Professional Staff Congress calls on Mayor Zohran Kwame Mamdani to veto Intro 175-B, which broadly limits free speech outside of educational facilities, such as those that host worker-training programs, libraries, schools, and universities, including all City University of New York colleges. The bill is unnecessary and unconstitutional and will invite political repression of unfavored speech. It deprives our students and community allies of their First Amendment rights and encourages the NYPD to aggressively police speech with which the bill sponsors disagree.
We released a joint statement last week (https://psc-cuny.org/.../higher-ed-unions-and-advocates...) opposing the bill, endorsed by AAUP-NYU, Contract Faculty United at NYU - UAW, The New School AAUP, St. John's University AAUP Chapter, AAUP - Columbia University, SVA Faculty United – UAW and UAW Region 9A.
I scroll through the news.
New tests for all of us to connect protests with community organization; join your community gardens, hands off group, meet a neighbor, etc. Get engaged.
A Tim Hjersted puts its:
“You’ve seen the posts. Maybe you’ve written one yourself.
“This is just a pressure valve for suburban liberals. They’ll march, feel righteous, go home, and change nothing. We need sustained civil disobedience, strikes, and direct action — not pep rallies.”
“Where are the demands? ‘No Kings’ isn’t a platform. It’s a bumper sticker for people who want to feel like they're resisting without actually challenging anything.”
“These protests are a Dem party psyop to get us to vote blue and nothing more.”
These critiques come from people who consider themselves more radical than the average protester. They carry a tone of world-weary sophistication. The implication being that those who show up are naive, and those who stay home see the bigger picture.
Here’s the problem: this attitude is strategically illiterate. It mistakes cynicism for constructive action. And it guarantees the one outcome its proponents claim to fear most: a movement that never escalates beyond what it already is.
An organizer looks at a mass protest and sees something completely different than the cynic does.
Where the cynic sees a feel-good spectacle, the organizer sees thousands of people ready to get involved — a chance to connect them with local groups, deepen their engagement, and build the relationships that every form of deeper resistance depends on.”
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