Last night went to the night market at Chingshui, a small market under the administration of Taichung City. Once again I was reminded that history is in the making. In 1935, an earthquake flattened the town, and reconstruction gave rise to a mishmash of western and eastern modernisms, which have been further defined through later developments. Feral cats led us through winding alleyspast Japanese era housing, 60s minimalist facades on low-level row houses, and late 90s mansions. Older women burned incense at Daoist shrines and buddhist temples. We ended our tour eating savory rice ball soup, fermented tofu with garlic and pickles, oyster pancakes. Joy.