A few weeks before Chinese New Year, my dad’s uncle passed away. Pancreatic cancer. When it was diagnosed, it was already stage IV. I can’t say I am close to him, since I rarely see him, being out of the country and all, but I do like him. I remember the first time I met him was during the first Gulf War. He had a mustache at the time, and I seriously thought he was Saddam Hussein incarnate. He spoke honestly and crassly, but I liked him.

My parents asked me if I would like to accompany them to the funeral and stay for new years in Taiwan. For once, I felt a duty toward family. And this is where the story starts.

The very next day was the funeral, and I had already gotten sick from some pickled cabbage that came from a street vender. The ceremony it self was moving, in the typical Chinese manner, lots of tears, lots of people, and lots of colorful wreaths decorated with plastic flowers and canned food. After the ceremony, I passed out. Both from gluttony—we managed 4 meals in a 12 hour period—and from dehydration. But I had to get up. I had to carry on. Because that night, I still have to rock.

I met Nicole, at Riverside Café, for a rock concert featuring Back Quarter (I know it’s backwards). The show was great, though I was turned off by the venue and the crowd, in that particular order. I can’t believe Taiwanese people sits down, then politely clap for a rock concert. Fuck that, I said, it’s time to rock and roll! I screamed and head-banged, and in return, I got weird stares from the rest of the club. It would not be the last.

11 P.M. was not late enough for me, since I was still jet-lagged, so Nicole decided to take me to TU. A gin tonic and two whiskey on the rocks later, I realized Taiwanese people can’t dance. Since they can’t dance, there is no way I can embarrass my self, so I danced until the sun came up. Since the last train runs at 12 A.M., which was about 5 hours before I left TU, I called a cab. When it came, I was buying a roast sausage from a street vender. It was quite a sight, really: me, drunk off my ass, chasing a cab with a sausage in my hand, screaming and waving a 1000NT bill. I arrived home around 6 A.M., a convenient store onigiri (best in the world) in one hand, an iced tea in the other, and did not wake up until 3. P.M. the next day.

That was only the first day.

The rest of the week there was basically rinse, lather ad nauseam. In short, if I was out after 11, I was most likely drunk. Out of the 9 days I was there, I was out past 11 five times. Keep in mind that the first day I got in at 2 A.M., one day was New Years Eve, and the last day I had to catch a flight. That effectively narrows down days I could go out to 6. I smoked Cuban cigars, drank blue mountain coffee, and ate from street venders. I lived a life of debauchery I only wish I can afford here.

The highlight is definitely Friday night, when I hung out with Annie, who is a sister to me, and CT, whom I haven’t seen since he suddenly went back to Taiwan a year ago. We started at Mint, underneath the monstrous Taipei 101. Annie and I tore up the dance floor. Just before we came, she told us we can drink on the street in Taiwan, which was a revelation to me. We proceed to walk into a 7-11, bought a Corona each, and chugged it sitting in a plaza while talking gangsta. That beer mixed with the vodka shot, made me invincible.

That night I was invincible, Annie and I. I never realize how much I miss Taiwan until I visit it. Though I’d probably never live there again.