Gosh, I’m so bad at this! Truly, I had at least three ideas for posts written in my head that I meant to get down (about Mid-Autumn Festival, about the Hualien disaster, and something else now lost to time) but I have just been non-stop busy. Busy with what? I went to the States for two weeks to do a bunch of events (which I probably should have posted about here beforehand! But I did not! Because life!) and then it was Halloween and then I’ve been doing preschool visits and meeting deadlines, etc. etc. etc.
Anyway, the thing I wanted to write about today is, belatedly, about Halloween! Or more broadly, about celebrating American holidays here.
I’ve now lived in Taiwan for almost exactly a decade, but for the first five years, I was lucky in that I somehow almost always timed it so that I was home for Thanksgiving and I always spent Christmas with my family. Then Covid hit, and I spent the first Christmas of my entire life apart from my family. I was so sad; I made my then-boyfriend take me on a getaway to Kenting so I wouldn’t wallow.
In all of this, Halloween was never a big deal to me. Especially because Halloween in Taiwan happens in pockets, with the biggest parades and celebrations reserved for more expat-y neighborhoods, and totally ignored by a good majority of the population.1 I’d occasionally dress up if there was a party to go to, but you know, like as an adult, if there’s no party, it’s just another day.
Until I had a child.
Suddenly now, Halloween is incredibly important to me.
My baby’s first year, I bought his Halloween costume half a year in advance (I had my eye on Pearl River Mart’s Cute Noodle / Cup Noodle costume since baby was in the womb). I had always longed to do family costumes like I’d seen other families do on social media for years, and so that year I fashioned myself into soy sauce and my husband into a sushi chef.2
Last year we repurposed a dinosaur costume my aunt had purchased him the year before into a Yoshi costume — I bought baby a Yoshi shell backpack that he wore for all of 15 minutes, and me and husband found Mario and Luigi costumes. Despite the fact that, pre-child, I had always insisted I was NOT a mom who would ever be able to MAKE her child’s Halloween costume, I did spend upwards of 5 hours sewing him a dino egg trick or treat bag from felt.3
This year I started researching Halloween costumes in May, because baby had declared he wanted to be Lightning McQueen, and Daddy had to be Mack, and so I was going to be Sally, and I had to figure out how to make these things happen. I did the easy route for Daddy and baby, buying their costumes online (an actual, overpriced costume for baby and a Mack shirt for Daddy, plus hat — thanks Etsy). Then I made my own out of a cheap cap and tennis dress, felt, printed eyes, et voila.4
To impress upon you how important Halloween has become to me, let me say: I cut my visit to the US shorter than I could have (I was offered a spot at a lit festival in early November I could have stayed on for), specifically because I wanted to make it home for Halloween. It probably wouldn’t have mattered to baby (he’s too young to really care and he didn’t *really* know what Halloween was) but it matters to me because I know Halloween is one of those traditions that will only matter for, if I’m lucky, maybe a decade. How many more years will he be willing to dress up as a family? How many more years will he want to dress up, period? I want every single one I can get.
BUT! In Taiwan, Halloween is borrowed holiday. Which means that, often, unless it lands on a weekend, nothing happens on actual Halloween. Nobody trick or treats at houses or buildings — it’s mostly all at businesses. You see neighborhood flyers go up that detail trick or treating routes along participating businesses, and some of these events happen as early as mid-October. This year, with panic, I started to see that a bunch of events were slated to occur the weekend before Halloween, despite it being on a Friday, and since I would be on a plane at that time, I realized I might actually miss Halloween after all.
Luckily, the event I had my hopes pinned on (a cute parent-led event where parents hide in a giant maze with candy and kids go around looking for them) ended up taking place the day after Halloween, so we went and baby had a grand old time. I think he *gets* it more now and I’m excited that next year might be the first year where he cares!
All of that being said — I think back to my own fond memories of Halloween, of trick or treating in my building (because I lived in a high-rise apartment), the anticipation of pushing a doorbell and waiting for the door to open, the glimpse of someone else’s home, having to overcome shyness to say “Trick or Treat!” (followed by “Unicef!” as I rattled the little cardboard box I was given in school), the excitement of it. Being told by kids passing by which apartments had better candy. Seeing the different decorations.
I think of all of that and realize my child won’t get the same experience as I had. When he thinks about Halloween later on, I wonder what he will remember about it. It makes me a little bit sad, that for him Halloween will always be the weekend before or after it actually is, that he’ll miss out on the cozy feel of trick or treating in your neighborhood with your friends. But I’m trying my damnedest to make it something for him, even if it isn’t what I had. A thing that matters to him for different reasons, perhaps, than it did for me, but matters nonetheless.
I’d say I was someone for whom holidays always felt important. It was never necessarily about the origin of the holidays in the lexicon of American culture to me so much as the traditions and feelings I associated with it. Hanging out with family and stuffing your face with food. Opening nuclear family gifts on Christmas Eve and then doing extended celebrations on Christmas Day. Hell, I even loved July Fourth, swimming in the pool with my family, going to our building’s barbecue, watching the fireworks. Isn’t that what holidays are about for most people who care about them? The associations we have with the holidays, the things we do with the people we love. The comfort and familiarity of repetition and tradition?
But I think until I had a child, it didn’t bother me as much if I missed a holiday. Now, everything feels vital, especially since he’s growing up as an American not in America. It’s not so much that I care about Thanksgiving per se (after all, it is a genocidal holiday5) but I also want him to feel all the things I felt on Thanksgiving, to pass down to him the traditions I grew up with6, to understand this part of being American.7 This year I’ve booked a giant turkey dinner at a restaurant and invited friends because I really, really wanted a proper Thanksgiving meal.
I’m lucky to have a Taiwanese husband who, despite not growing up with any of these traditions, is happy to indulge me as I insist on the importance of keeping up with the holidays. He’s learned alongside me, what I expect, what I care about, what I need to have for specific holidays, and in doing so, I suppose we are coming up with our own traditions. It’s not the same to me, but to my husband and son, they don’t know any different.
For me, this is one way, I suppose, that my Americanness comes out. It’s a strange thing—ironic really—that after years of growing up in the US, where all I wished for was to get Lunar New Year off (and where my parents tried very hard to impress the importance of various Chinese holidays on us), where I was so aware of my Asianness, that I’m now in Taiwan, doing the reverse. I want my son to get exposure to American culture too. And I’m trying my hardest to pass down my Americanness in a way that I hope that he will not only cherish and look back upon fondly one day, but also internalize into his own sense of being.
I’m absolutely CHUFFED that Homeseeking has been nominated for two Goodreads Choice Awards, in Historical Fiction and Debut Novel. Voting in this round is open until November 23, so please please consider voting for me! If I make it through this round, there’s another round of voting for the final round.
Vote Favorite Historical Fiction!
Also, Homeseeking has been selected by Amazon Editors as one of its Top 20 Discover Reads of 2025! So grateful to the editors for this honor.
Lastly, here are the gorgeous new covers for the US and UK paperback editions of Homeseeking, set to come out in December and January, respectively! Pre-order now!
The White Lotus
Yes, I realize I am so delayed in this! I actually did watch season 1 on a plane when it first came out, and enjoyed it fine, but for whatever reason, by the time season 2 came out, I had cooled in my feelings towards it. I was like, Eh, I don’t know if I want to spend so much time watching annoying privileged white people, so I just ignored it. Then recently, my husband and I were trying to figure out what to watch next and I was like, well, hey let’s do White Lotus since there’s three seasons of it to occupy us (remember when TV shows had like 13-24 episodes a season). And now we are really enjoying it. We’re only at the beginning of season 3 now.
(Aside: at one point during season 2, when Jennifer Coolidge is having one of her wildly emotional breakdowns or whatever (does she have borderline personality disorder?), I turned to my husband and was like, “Oh look, it’s <baby’s name redacted>!” because the outburst felt very much like watching an almost three-year-old with VERY BIG FEELINGS and absolutely zero ability to regulate any of them.
We ate at this potsticker place in Sanchong after we went to take family portraits the other day, recommended by the photo studio’s owner. He told us they had crispy edge oyster omelettes, which I had never had before! It was really good — baby loved eating the crispy edges and combined with the regular gooeyness of the potato starch and plump oysters, it was the perfect combination of textures. I also really liked their potstickers — crispy edges and really tasty filling. Very basic food but very yummy.
Also one of the big differences for adult Halloween is that I think in the US, it’s kind of an opportunity to be creative or dress up as some sort of pop culture reference (that or, like, being a sexy anything. Sexy pizza, anyone?). I loved seeing the funny creative costumes people had, the way people expressed themselves. In Taiwan on the other hand, adult Halloween tends to skew pure scary. People dress up as zombies and murdered ghouls and whatever else. That or, like, anime cosplay. It’s a really different brand of Halloween, which I think actually can make it scary for kids to trick or treat sometimes!
One year, for a party, I dressed up as a pirate (a semi-sexy pirate) and my friends were like, you need blood! So they drew red blood all over my mouth and face so I became a vampire pirate.
Yes, yes, I know sushi chefs have better things to do than make cup noodles, but the alternative was for my husband to wear a ridiculous chopsticks costume and he was NOT about it.
A much more seasoned seamstress could probably have done that in like 30 minutes, especially if they had a sewing machine, but I had NO IDEA what I was doing and I tracing pieces with a pencil and cutting them and then sewing by hand, very messily (bc I do not know how to stitch correctly). My fashion designer grandmother was probably rolling in her grave.
I bought a glue gun (which I’d never used before!) for our first Halloween that has since gotten a ton of use… only for Halloween costumes.
Speaking of genocidal, I have NOT celebrated July 4th for a couple of years, having no desire to. But also because, aside from the American Club, which we are not a part of, I wouldn’t know where to get a good pool party and bbq, and anyway, the thing I liked the most about July 4th was the Macy’s fireworks display which I obviously cannot replicate here! So this is a holiday I relinquish while here.
Interestingly enough, since my parents themselves were immigrants, these “traditions” I grew up with were adopted/borrowed for them and yet they’ve become such a big part of who I am. I wonder sometimes how they learned to make it important to them over time (or maybe it’s not! Maybe they’ve been faking it this whole time and it’s never really felt organically that important! Who knows! Being an immigrant and having to adopt a new culture is weird!) It’s ironic that now I’m trying to reinject these borrowed traditions into my Taiwanese kid. What if I’m the only person in my family tree who ever really *feels* American in all these ways? What if I’m the weird American blip?
His birthday, incidentally, falls on Thanksgiving weekend this year, and will most years, so it’s possible he will end up not giving a shit about Thanksgiving if it eclipses his birthday, lol. Or maybe even resent it! So maybe this is all for naught.
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