In the heart of the big Taiwanese city of Taipei, hundreds of people gather in one place. Warm and flickering lights greet me as friendly-looking strangers try to avoid getting run over by speeding motorbikes. Hundreds of stalls are lined up as if they would be crossing the entire country. This is the Shilin night market.

As I make my way into the bustling crowd filled with sweaty-backed and snotty-nosed people, I sniff the air like a dog as a fine scent of fresh food whisps through the air. There are people in the background bargaining in Chinese; apparently trying to get cheaper prices than the already cheap ones.

A strong smell stops me in the middle of the road. The smell is so strong and delicious, in fact, I can just taste it at the tip of my tongue. It is a young man deep frying the famous stinky tofu. I hop around and fiddle with my hands excitedly, as the tofu sizzles in the boiling hot oil, and the rice hisses like an angry cat. I am starting to get impatient now. As he finally hands it over, I take a cautious bite… As my teeth penetrate the skin, there is a soft crunching sound to be heard, and my mouth gets flooded with the juiciness contained inside. I devour it like an ogre, and order ten more!

There he is. My heart is pounding as if the atmospheric pressure has increased immensely. It is an old man with skin wrinkled like old plastic bags. With my knees shaking, I slowly and cautiously walk past him. He is clapping crazily and is undistinguishable from insane. My sinuses start burning as the horrible smell of tobacco enters my nose. All the saliva in my mouth is gone. There is nothing but a sandy, dry texture left. He is wearing a humungous hoodie with bold letters making it almost impossible to miss. With my mouth moving for itself, I read out loud, “ I love Margret.” I continue walking without looking back once, hoping I’ll never see him again.

A few hours have passed, and the buildings are swaying in the furious whistling wind. Cracking thunder can be heard in the distance, while raindrops start pouring down on our heads. It’s time to go home