This year’s spring break was probably my favorite of undergrad. I spent the week in Taipei and visited my friends who were studying abroad at National Taiwan University. The trip was filled with eventful moments of visiting sights, running around the city and eating delicious food. Even the quieter moments were quite memorable: On my last day in Taipei, I decided to head to a cafe to get some work done.
With Google Maps in hand, I meandered through the streets of Xinyi District in search of a place to get some writing done for my Creative Nonfiction and Diaries and Daybooks classes. The streets were bustling; though the first few days of my trip were especially rainy, the weather was beautiful today. People were out and about.
I weaved in and out through various quaint alleyways before coming across a small cafe. On the patio out front, some students were enjoying a cup of coffee with friends while others were typing away on their laptops. I could hear the click-clacking of the keys as I approached the entrance.
“This seems like a good place to do some work,” I thought to myself as I headed inside.
I ordered an iced latte, flashing my usual apologetic smile and shaking my head when the baristas spoke to me in Mandarin. After some animated menu-pointing and the baristas rushing off to find their English-speaking coworker, the latte was successfully ordered. Drink in hand, I could finally sit down and work.
I pulled out my laptop and opened my assignments. Taking a sip of my latte and looking around, I felt altogether content. As much as I loved running around and exploring Taipei throughout the week, this time in the cafe felt like a moment to breathe.
Before spring break, I had told my Diaries and Daybooks professor that I was excited to do exactly this. I love writing in new places because I always feel newly inspired. Finally, on my last day in Taiwan, it was my chance to do so.
“Even the quieter moments were quite memorable: On my last day in Taipei, I decided to head to a cafe to get some work done.“
I sipped my drink and spent an hour working on my creative nonfiction piece about memory and my mother’s childhood stuffed bunny. Then I added some entries into my Diaries and Daybooks pillow book project, which is all about the practice of daily recording. Another hour went by and I didn’t even realize I had finished my drink. I was completely in the zone.
After putting my empty cup away, I ended up ordering a slice of tiramisu, which had been calling my name from the moment I stepped foot into the cafe. Though I was tempted to sit back down and just continue working, I made myself take a break. I looked around at the cafe once more: at all the customers chatting, typing or watching anime on their laptops.
I smiled to myself, thinking about how I was presently at a cafe in Taipei working on assignments for two creative writing classes. About how I was taking two creative writing classes this semester. About how I was actually having fun writing while in the moment.
I thought about high-school me, who had an ambivalent relationship to writing: My 16-year-old self, for whom writing was fun but also scary because it seemed less clear than a math equation. I thought about how much I used to dread writing assignments because a blank Word document seemed so much more intimidating than a calculus worksheet. “What if I don’t come up with the right answer?” I would think to myself. “What if my answer is just dumb?”
As I sat in this cafe, I felt grateful for the English classes in college (Theories and Methods in Lit,” “Asian American Literary and Cultural Critique,” “Translation in the 21st Century,” “Jane Austen,” to name a few) that softened my relationship with literature. These classes transformed me as a student. These classes are the reason why I am no longer afraid of writing but instead, seek out cafes — like this one — to write in.
I eventually resumed working again, continuing to draft my creative nonfiction piece and punctuating some poems in between bites of tiramisu. When I left the cafe, I felt content with the work that I accomplished and ultimately refreshed. For me, this was the perfect way to end my time in Taiwan.
As a senior, the weeks post-spring break are full of reflection and both thinking back to the past and looking to the future. Looking towards my post-grad plans right now, they have nothing to do with literature. And yet, I know that my 5C experience has inspired me to do things outside of my career — for me, that means writing even on vacation!
It’s rather bittersweet to have your career be separate from something you love. But maybe I’ll just have to carve out time during grad school to sit at a cafe and write. Yes, maybe that’ll have to do.
Emily Kim PO ’25 is from Irvine, California. Her suitcase was brimming with six boxes of pineapple cake and too many Taiwanese 7-11 snacks on her way back home.
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