It has been five years since I boarded the plane to move back to the U.S. from Taiwan. As wistful as I was when I saw the green land vanish before my eyes, I thought I would get the opportunity to visit Taiwan a year or two after I left. But I was wrong. Each summer that followed presented a new obstacle preventing me from going back to Taiwan. I’m content with my life in the U.S., but that doesn’t mean my strong feelings of nostalgia for Taiwan have gone away. Whenever I look at old photos of me in Taiwan or flip through travel and dining books about Taiwan, a sudden surge of longing rises inside of me.