Younger Brother gets out of an ice cold shower. He is done with his morning calisthenics and is about ready to eat the oddest breakfast I have ever witnessed. Also huge. He’s been on a health kick lately, between trips to photograph the conflict in Ukraine. As a Taiwanese, he feels solidarity with Ukraine as it fights a mighty neighboring power trying to consume it.
“So you think the Chinese won’t invade Taiwan soon?” I ask. I have been wondering how risky a trip there is right now, with our own government in such disarray, bestowing tariffs on China while supplying Taiwan with arms.
“The Chinese have their own problems right now,” he says. “But if there is a threat, I am on the next plane home.” He lives in Austria, but Taiwan, where his mother and family are, is home. “I don’t know if I’ll shoot with a camera or a gun,” he says. “Maybe I’ll mount a gun on my camera.”
He has already invested in armored tactical gear to work near the front lines in Ukraine. Indeed, he has bought more while in New York. He is staying with me while printing huge photographs for an upcoming show.
Younger Brother and I met through a war correspondent friend from Life magazine some 25 years ago. We became friends partly because I had at least been to Taiwan, and we have become even closer as we watched him ail and die. Younger Brother and I have done stories and books together. I have written critiques and captions and intros. And he has taken me along to Taiwan and Singapore and Vietnam. He is one of my two close friends from Taiwan. And that is a conundrum.
Taiwan, like the U.S. and so many other countries these days, is divided into camps, those who favor reunification with China, and those who favor, and fight for, an independent Taiwan. My friends are on opposite sides. Older Sister and Younger Brother.
