Open window, light breeze to take down some of the oppressiveness of the humidity. There’s a garbage truck parked outside my apartment building. The sounds of rainfall, scratchy Mandarin apologizing about something and classical piano tunes on an approximately 10 second loop are mingling about as well as birdsong and an electric guitar ruff as I catch up on back taxes and plan a new adventure on my laptop. Did I mention the garbage trucks play music as they go by? Taiwan is weird.