I waited for the big green bus, but my companion needed to leave to teach. When the bus arrived, I asked a woman behind me in my limited Chinese, “Does this go to the…?” “Airport,” she replied. I jumped aboard and started the journey. That evening, my dad and stepmother, Cathy, were arriving in Taipei. It was rush hour, so I tried to leave plenty of time. I started waiting at around 5:45, but the bus didn’t arrive until almost 6:20. Leaving Taipei was painful; the streets were a parking lot. The bus finally reached the freeway, and by 7:00, about the time my parents were arriving, I was still 20 minutes away. I was somewhat relieved, knowing they would need to collect their luggage, complete forms, and clear customs. To my dismay, the bus left the freeway and toured Taoyuan, a city near the airport. Once again stuck in traffic, we wound through busy streets dropping off passengers. When the nearly empty bus stopped at a red light, the driver got out, walked into a shop, bought dinner, and returned. At almost 8:00, one hour and 40 minutes after boarding, I finally pulled into Terminal 2.

My parents were cheerful, or at least as cheerful as anyone could be after a 13-hour flight and being stood up by their son. We exchanged hugs, threats about my inheritance followed, and I bought our bus tickets back to central Taipei. Another hour later, I was back where I had started, this time with my parents smiling beside me.

I walked them a few blocks to their hotel, halfway between the Nanjing East Road and Zhongshan High School MRT stations. I checked them in, helped unload their luggage, and immediately headed back onto the street. Time for food.

I found a nice place just down the street. My plan was to ease my parents into the food and daily life of Taiwan; too much dietary change too quickly could make them ill. I ordered tea and five kinds of dumplings. My parents began to fade, so I walked them back to their hotel. The next day would bring more adventures, more food, and new sights.