MRT should allow water
A recent post on the Professional Technology Temple bulletin board system called attention to regulations regarding eating and drinking in MRT stations and trains.
Responses to the post were mixed. Someone said that it is OK to eat boxed meals on Taiwan Railway and High Speed Rail trains. Another said that drinking water on the MRT has always been banned. “If you don’t like the law, don’t take the MRT,” they said.
Taipei Rapid Transit Corp (TRTC) responded that people who need to drink water due to extenuating circumstances, such as illness or physical discomfort, should contact MRT staff for assistance.
Article 50 of the Mass Rapid Transit Act (大眾捷運法) stipulates that people who eat, drink, or chew gum or betel nuts would be fined NT$1,500 to NT$7,500. While the TRTC indicated that exceptions might be made in the event of illness, there is no language in the act itself that protects an individuals’ right to drink water in such situations.
Who exactly should be responsible for determining if a passenger is unwell enough to be permitted to drink water? What standards would be used to assess a passenger’s condition? If an individual is feeling lightheaded, should they press the red alert button and wait for a security guard to board the train at the next station to ask for permission before taking a sip, all to avoid incurring a NT$7,500 fine?
One listed purpose of the act is to “increase the public welfare,” but I am struggling to understand how denying passengers the ability to drink water, even in the sweltering summer heat, achieves that goal. Prohibiting drinking water on trains and even within MRT stations — many of which are outdoors and lack air-conditioning — risks the health and well-being of passengers, who could quite easily suffer from dehydration or even heatstroke in Taiwan’s unforgiving climate.
It is particularly unfair to vulnerable groups who are more sensitive to extreme temperatures, such as young children, the elderly or people with certain medical conditions.
According to the Central Weather Administration, last year was Taiwan’s hottest on record, with temperatures above 35°C commonplace across the nation. Given the undeniable effects of climate change and the importance of staying hydrated in hot weather, it is time for the law to be modified to allow Taipei’s nearly 2 million daily MRT commuters to drink water — a measure necessary for protecting the health and well-being of Taipei’s residents.
Anonymous
Taipei
The social power of food
The first time I tasted Taiwanese food, I was quietly disappointed. It was not bad — just bland. After years of growing up with my mom’s Indonesian cooking, rich in spices, the gentle flavors of Taiwanese dishes felt unfamiliar, almost hollow.
I remember sitting in my dormitory room thinking: “I miss home — and I miss rawon.”
As an international student from Indonesia studying at Wenzao Ursuline University of Languages in Kaohsiung, adjusting to life in Taiwan was not just about language or academics — it was about taste, memory and comfort.
However, over time, something changed. I began to see food not only as a source of nostalgia, but as a gateway. I realized food has a quiet power: It builds bridges. In Taiwan, it helped me find belonging, one bite at a time.
With the encouragement of a few close friends, I began exploring beyond the campus cafeteria. We tried the ever-polarizing stinky tofu. What once seemed strange, slowly became enticing.
Now, when I think of stinky tofu, I do not think of the smell. I think of that night at the market, the sound of scooters buzzing past and the friends who helped me feel at home in a foreign land.
As I grew more comfortable in Taiwan, I realized that food was not just helping me adjust — it was helping others understand me. One day, I invited my Taiwanese friend to try soto ayam at an Indonesian restaurant. She coughed at the chili, but smiled from ear to ear, asking questions about the flavors, the ingredients, the story behind the dish.
In that moment, I was not just sharing food — I was sharing my culture.
Through such experiences, I learned that cultural exchange does not always need formal programs or organized events. It can happen at a street stall, in a dorm kitchen or during a late-night snack run.
Food invites curiosity, and that curiosity builds connection. It teaches us to listen, to respect differences and to find common ground — even when we come from opposite sides of the world.
I came to Taiwan missing the taste of home — the bold spices, the familiar meals my mother used to make. What I did not expect was that food here, although different, would become part of my story too.
When I eventually leave Taiwan, I know I will miss more than just the scenery or the language. I will miss the night markets, the flavors and the people I shared them with. In the end, food does more than fill our stomachs — it fills our hearts with stories we carry forever.
Yohana Aprilia Susanto
Kaohsiung
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