Guangfu Road Apartment

We went to see an apartment today. A realtor that I contacted yesterday, Ms. Zhang, called me and said she had an opening at Guangfu S. Road, Lane 290. I mapped it and it's really close to Sun Yat-Sen Memorial, where there's an MRT stop.

I made arrangements with her to meet at 1:30 pm at the apartment. After breakfast, my dad wasn't feeling good (probably from the meds) and so he went to sleep. I went out to get a haircut.

When I got back, he still seemed tired. We took a taxi to the apartment and Ms. Zhang and another associate was there. The apartment was on the 8th floor, which we found out was a roof addition built by one of the 7th floor tenants. The story is, it's a 2-bedroom apartment, at least 20 ping, but one of the room's is occupied. The person occupying it is a relative of the owner and is hardly living there, since he spends most of his time in Los Angeles. So, for most of the year, it's vacant.

The addition is decent, although there are a few things that are desired: no stove, no bathtub (don’t want my dad to slip and fall), and two small twin beds instead of one queen-size one.

Ms. Zhang’s associate went down to ask the landlord about the bed, and she said that it would be a loss for her to get rid of the queen-size bed, but she would add a twin bed for my mom. We figured that would be a workable compromise.

About the other things, Ms. Zhang seemed like it wasn’t too big a request to install a small bathtub and a stove, and she would discuss it with the landlord if we were serious about moving there.

My dad told them that for the stove, we would really only need something small, like one burner portable stove for quick heating of stuff. I quickly told him no, thinking in my head that if there was just one burner, you would only be able to cook one dish at a time … how long would it take to cook!

So I told the agents that we need to first consult with my mother and have her check out the place. We’ll see what she says …

On the way out, we noticed that we were just a few blocks away from my Uncle Bill’s apartment! That was good, since if there was an emergency, they would be there.

My dad and I went to go look for lunch. We looked at a bunch of places and stumbled upon two hole-in-the-wall restaurants – one served mi fen, and the other had different kinds of clear-broth soups. I opted for the soups, my dad insisted on eating mi fen, so I relented.

We each got an order of mi fen, a thick soup (looked like dan hua tang) for him and wonton tang for me. Well, despite having ordered what he wanted, he took about 4 bites and then he stopped eating. He said the food tasted too sweet, which was weird because I didn’t get that feeling at all. I think another factor was that mi fen, because of its consistency, can easily get stuck in your throat. And the way my dad ate, he got it caught down the wrong tube and started coughing.

Prior to my arrival in Taipei, he choked on food and coughed so hard, that his tumor tore. Since then, he’s been trying hard not to cough. Yet he still eats his food too fast …

So I asked him if he wanted to order something else, and he said no. He looked really depressed. I asked him if he was disappointed in eating and he said yes. I told him that it’s just the medicine doing this and it’s only temporary. Because he didn’t eat anything, the painkillers took hold and he started getting really tired.

We went back to the hotel, but we made a stop at the Hi-Life mini-market to pick up something to drink for him. I asked him if he wanted food, he said no. It’s curious to me why he complains that the food is too sweet and then he goes out and buys a small carton of herbal jelly drink and mango juice. Go figure.

I went out with my cousin Peter while he rested and went up to the top of Taipei 101, the world’s tallest building. I took lots of pictures because the sunset was beautiful. On the way back, I went to the market at the basement of Sogo Department Store and got him a canister of powdered Ensure (I looked all over for the individual drinks, but couldn’t find any anywhere). Now, if he doesn’t eat, at least he can get some nourishment from this drink. On the can, it even says that it can help provide nutrients to people recovering from surgery or undergoing chemotherapy.

For dinner, my dad didn’t want to eat out because he was tired and he’s been feeling disappointed. He told me that his taste has changed; that food he once really loved to eat, doesn’t satisfy him or doesn’t taste good. Then he mentioned that he should have went to Shanghai.

I asked him why? Because his housekeeper, Xiao Liu, can make him food to eat? He said no, because it’s better to be at home, the air quality in the hotel isn’t that good, and he’s tired of going out to eat. And plus, he doesn’t have to see the doctor until March.

I reminded him, “No, you have a blood test tomorrow and an appointment with the cancer specialist on Thursday. You’ll be going to the hospital once a week.”

I had convinced him to go out, seeing how there was nothing else left to eat. So we went to the cafeteria-style place again, I figured it was a safe bet since that was a place where he liked the food.

We ordered quite a bit: mushu hui bing, the same vegetable-tofu soup we had last time, kong xing cai, and a leek flat bread with sesame seeds on top. Oh, and my dad also got a bowl of mi dou fan (?), which is like rice porridge but yellow from what I guess is corn - kinda reminds me of oatmeal.

It was quite a feast. And I was slightly afraid that the same thing would happen again – where my dad would take a few bites and then not eat. But surprisingly, he finished his bowl of mi fan, several bowls of soup and half of the mushu hui bing.

He says that the mushu hui bing was a favorite of him and his brother’s. They would be very, very lucky if they got to eat it growing up. Since they were so poor, they would both share one plate.

I’ve noticed that my dad is re-living some childhood memories, especially related to food. Being poor, he grew up hungry, he said. And because of this, his memories of good food are particularly special. I can only imagine what life would be like if xiao long bao no longer tasted good to me! I guess I would be depressed too.

We got back and I started packing my bags. My mom arrived tonight at midnight, after an hour delay. She seemed well rested and in good spirits and my dad was glad to see her.

The rest of the night, I went over all the places I had contacted for apartments and told her stuff she needed to follow up on. Then we went over dad’s schedule for the next week.