Eccentric Taiwanese Dating Culture: Short Stay

by Chris Lynd

It was late on a drizzling Wednesday night and there was no one left in the backstreet of Taipei’s Songshan Station except Liz and me. Liz, my high school girlfriend, stood next to me under a building with a wan, blinking green sign on some scaffolding sticking out from the wall. ‘Your friend said this is the one, right?’ I asked, looking at the sign. She nodded. ‘So I guess we’re doing this.’ A few minutes later, we were on the seventh floor of the building, walking down a corridor with dimmed lights and textured papers peeling off the wall. The air was cool and dry thanks to the ever-running air conditioning, but the faint, muffled voices behind the walls and the repeated banging and creaking noises echoing in the corridor made the atmosphere hot and steamy. After making two right turns, we stopped at a door as I checked the key fob I was holding. ‘This is it.’ I said to Liz, and I unlocked the door — we were inside a hotel room to have sex, and we’d got two hours on the clock.

That’s not a scene from an erotic romance novel or any creation of that nature, but my actual first-time experience of checking into a hotel for a ‘short stay’. A short stay is an on demand short accommodation product, essentially a hotel room with its fee charged per hour of stay, instead of per night. This accommodation concept doesn’t exist in the Western hospitality industry, but very much thrives in Taiwan, and is particularly popular among young people in their twenties who seek spaces where they could have sex with their partners. One might wonder, ‘If all you want is somewhere to have sex, why not just do it in the comfort of your own home, and save all that trouble?’ The answer is simple: they can’t.

The influence of conservative Confusion tradition on Taiwanese sexual mores that encourages the suppression of one’s desire for carnal pleasure (Huang et al. 22) results in the absence of discussion and education regarding sex, gender, sexuality and emotions among parents and their children. Such a mindset, alongside the strict control over premarital sexual behaviour of youth in the name of physical and moral protection and teenage pregnancy prevention, make adolescents’ own homes unsuitable for exploring sexual desires. So to speak, homes are not safe spaces to talk about sex, let alone practise it. As within traditional Taiwanese culture, people live with their parents into their twenties, which further deprives young people’s freedom and right to have sex at the age when having a healthy sex life should be common. My study indicates that there’s an association among Taiwanese social norms and the social phenomenon of young people seeking places to satisfy their sexual desires with their partners as well as the flourishing of short stay as a modern Taiwanese cultural artefact of dating.

‘You will not have a girlfriend until you’re in high school. Do you hear me?’ I recall my mother told me this in a solemn tone of warning when she found in my schoolbag a letter from a girl in my class. I was only eight years old, and she never brought it up again. As a matter of fact, I thought I came from a family where love, sex and desires were not necessarily secrets when I grew up, yet still I could tell that my parents would avoid such topics within conversations if possible. Another example took place at my parents’ a few years ago, when I was already in college. I took my girlfriend home for dinner one evening, and we all had a great time, so great that she missed her last train home. I asked my parents if she could stay for the night, and they agreed. The next day, my mum texted me that they both really liked my girlfriend, who was more than welcome to have dinner again some other time, but it’d be better that I’d just send her home earlier next time. ‘You two are young and not married. If the neighbours saw you two in and out together, it’s just a matter of time before they know that we’re letting you sleep together. And word gets around.’

Even from my parents, who are relatively open-minded, I could still find traces of the conservative mores from previous generations that see premarital sex and everything that might lead to it as vicious and harmful to the development of children and their parents’ reputation — as if they are not fulfilling their social responsibility by tolerating or encouraging their children to have premarital sex under their roof. This is understandable, as the prevention of teenage pregnancy is considered among the top responsibilities of Taiwanese parents (Yang 188), and traditional Taiwanese society’s discouragement of discussion over sex — a topic commonly viewed as a taboo in any social circumstances (Child Welfare League Foundation 1) — serve as major factors that minimise communication and education about sex during parenting.

The Child Welfare League Foundation of Taiwan conducted a survey in 2016 focusing on the sexual knowledge standard of Taiwanese youth ageing from 7 to 15. The survey shows that 26% of these children’s parents never had any discussion over sexual knowledge and sex related topics with them (Child Welfare League Foundation 1), 67.6% never mentioned any knowledge of sexual intercourse and 56.3% never discussed relationships (Child Welfare League Foundation 2). These astounding figures point out that the adults who should pass down knowledge to the next generations fail severely in their duty. It makes me wonder if children might not be just the only group of people in our society in need of proper sex education; as the distorted, unbalanced and unhealthy perception towards sex held by the previous generations stays strong, they might be just as much in need of enlightenment as their children.

Our school system also fails society when it comes to sex education, as 29.6% of the children experienced situations where teachers would avoid the sensitive sexual information in textbooks (Child Welfare League Foundation 4). Plus, our schools’ incompetent, flawed education design on sex, gender, sexuality and emotions simply does not keep up with social changes, with its foundation still based on the norms of heterosexual dominance and sexual repression (Yang 3). Even now, single-sex education still exists in our high school system, with many schools proudly celebrating their tradition and historical prestige of being among the top institutes on the island. Even though coed is now not only accepted by the public but deemed as a more civilised education format, many parents would still want their children to get into single-sex high schools. Many mates of mine who attended such schools believed their parents didn’t ignore the problem that being in a single-sex environment might not be healthy to children’s mental development in terms of emotions and sexuality, but actually wanted this environment to keep them away from the sexual temptation that naturally develops at this age.

There are also times that this vicious nature of our society’s attitudes towards teenage romance leads to damage caused by public scrutiny and even a level of state violence. During high school, Carol, a friend from my class, was dating a guy from another school. Carol came from a traditional Taiwanese family with a strict, conservative and even prudish nature. Her boyfriend picked her up from school every day, and would drop her off one block away from her place, fearing being seen by her parents. They’d been so careful, but their precautions were not enough to keep their relationship under wraps. One afternoon, Carol was asked to report to the school’s office of student discipline via the PA system. As it turned out, she was making out with her boyfriend at a park the other day, and was seen by a pedestrian. Due to historical reasons, Taiwanese high school students are required to wear uniforms with their names and student identification numbers embroidered on them. Apparently, the eagle-eyed pedestrian remembered the information and her looks, and reported such ‘obscene misbehaviour’ to our school’s authority. Half an hour later, informed by the office of student discipline, Carol’s parents came to school and were briefed on their daughter’s situation. Enraged, Carol’s father called her daughter a whore and slapped her in the face in front of everyone. He asked her to kneel before him and apologise. She didn’t understand what she had done wrong, or why her mother would just stand aside in silence and let her be humiliated in such a cruel manner. I never knew what happened to her boyfriend, but they were not seen together ever since. What Carol wanted was to have a relationship with a guy she liked. Was it really that outrageously unacceptable?

Carol’s story is a sad example showing that even in recent years, Taiwanese adolescents’ desire for and actions of intimacy are disapproved of, if not condemned. Given neither our homes nor schools provide a safe, welcoming environment, exploration of one’s sexual desire, orientation and appetite can only be done within one’s own private space, in the dark. The previous generations might not deliberately ignore the nature of sex as a way to give pleasure, but they definitely labelled it as filthy and shameful. I believe this is related to the fact that Taiwanese born from the 1930s to the 1980s weren’t enlightened by the ideas that came out of the sexual revolution in the West since the 1960s. These people, across generations, represent the majority of our society, and are still holding the frame that shapes our social and sexual norms (Huang et al. 22).

With more flexible timetables and opportunities to achieve financial independence via working part-time, college is a stage where many start dating for the first time. Taiwanese parents tend to loosen their control over children after they start to study at universities, but some could still hold their reins tight. Regardless of legal concern, it’s less possible for high school or junior high school students to seek short stays for sex because a). at this stage, young people’s source of income is mainly dependent on their parents, which could be more strictly controlled, and b). many would have fixed and packed school schedules every day and even go to cram schools afterwards. These might not prove anything directly associated with the existence, prevalence or scarcity of teenage sex, but only suggests that it’s less possible for them to do it in hotel rooms through short stays. Most Taiwanese first encounter the idea of the short stay after entering college, either because they hear of such thing from their peers, or simply because they are dating and the demand for decent places to have sex naturally surfaces.

As previously mentioned, most Taiwanese live with their parents into their twenties and even older. In fact, a study from 2008 shows that 86.1% of Taiwanese ageing from 20 to 24, and 88.5% of people ageing from 25 to 29 still lived with their families (Youth Development Administration 161). Besides the cultural influence, it’s practical for people of these age ranges who attend universities or work at the same locations as their homes to keep staying at their parents to save money. Flat sharing isn’t rare, but it’s another challenge to find a nice flatmate. Many parents also want their children to continue staying at home because they consider their kids’ staying with them the embodiment of filial piety. Taking care of the parents, financially or physically, wouldn’t be a possible reason to explain this phenomenon in most cases, as most parents at this age could still take care of themselves, often even their children as well. I believe this phenomenon works under the notion focusing on practicality and protecting the traditional Taiwanese moral value of loving one’s family. Thus, as many young people at this phase still living with their parents would now have their own sex lives, there comes demand for sex spaces.

There’s another group of young Taiwanese who are away from their parents but would still seek sex spaces through short stays, whose case further suggests just how ridiculous and upsetting the influence of conservative Taiwanese sexual norms over people’s sex lives could be — students who live inside college dormitories. Take National Taiwan University as an example. The on-campus student dormitories are run in single-sex formats. The main discussion of this section focuses on having guests of different biological sexes, especially within the women’s dormitories, where the deprivation of students’ right to have sex and unfairness among genders are evident. Because in the men’s dormitories, having guests of any gender (i.e., sneaking your boyfriend or girlfriend in to stay over) would not be a problem, as the deans often would overlook such actions. It’s not necessarily easy for people who have roommates to have sex in the rooms because, well, they’ve got roommates; yet it happens. On the other hand, it’s next to impossible for female students to do the same in their living spaces. First, the dormitories are surrounded by walls over 4 feet tall with glass shards embedded on top and spiked metal wires circling over them. According to the student dorm regulations, unauthorised guests are not allowed to enter at any time. Visitors can only enter the dormitory between 7am and 12am, and all visitors will be asked to sign in at the reception. Students who harbour their guests overnight could be kicked out if found (National Taiwan University Student Advisory Committee 1). Technically, these regulations should also be applied to the men’s dormitories, but they are never enforced.

A friend of mine who came from Madrid to our university on exchange once told me, ‘During the health and safety part of our orientation, the school staff deliberately emphasised the restrictions over drug use and having guests stay overnight. I remember they said, “No staying over. Go stay at hotels. There are many of them in Taipei.” Well, I understand the drug part, but why would they be afraid of students having sex? I told her that it had to do with keeping the students safe, but the truth is, there’s something terribly wrong with our culture. Even if we go with schools’ logic in the name of safety, with all the security cameras installed by the gate, at the reception, in every corridor, lifts and even outside the rooms, which are all monitored 24/7, it simply isn’t plausible.

All these unfriendly environments in the lives of young Taiwanese push them to seek spaces that are decent and discreet to have sex in, which is where the concept of the short stay enters. Short stays, as an on demand accommodation product, allow customers to check in anytime. Similar to standard hospitality products, the longer one stays, the more one pays; only in the case of short stays, the fees are charged per hour of stay instead of per night. Short stays are often offered by affordable hotels and hostels, and venues offering such products can be found all across Taiwan, especially in areas densely populated by young people. The Mandarin Chinese of short stay is 休息 (xiu-xi), literally ‘rest’ or ‘resting’, a euphemism respecting the cultural sensitivity of Taiwanese society and now a byword for having sex at a hotel among Millennial and Generation Z Taiwanese.

Short stays often come in packages based on time slot, time length, and amenities, which also reflect the prices. Same as checking into a hotel for a night, the better the hotel, the pricier its short stays would be. Short stays at hotels in the city centres are often more expensive than the ones of venues farther away from the cities’ hot spots. On average, short stays in the Taipei city centre would cost one from around NT$400 to NT$3000 per two hours, which is also the minimal time length in most cases. The longest time length on the market is 12 hours. The prices of short stays at most hotels are fixed. Some hotels sell packages of rooms with or without windows. And of course, the ones with windows would have a bigger price tag.

A short stay package often solely comprises access to a room and the amenities inside, but some hotels also offer guests access to public spaces with computers, magazines, and pantries. There is no room service, but basic housekeeping is essential. The rooms are often cozy, smart and simple. Common amenities include a bed, a bath, usually a television which sometimes offers free access to channels playing mediocre pornography, and a condom. Very few hotels would offer packages featuring different room themes.

Purchasing short stays is simple: just walk up to the reception of the hotel that offers such products, and say you want a short stay for how many hours. In most cases, the reception would proceed without asking further questions or requesting identification, which might trouble the customers, as discretion is among the top qualities required whilst selling this product. Most hotels would make a phone call to the room 15 minutes prior to the scheduled time for checking out.

What’s worth noting is that such an unorthodox variant of hospitality based on customers’ demand for spaces to have sex in isn’t entirely unique to Taiwan. Love hotels play a significant role on the flip side of Japan’s hospitality industry. Unlike the hotels that offer short stays in Taiwan often coming with a sense of understatement, Japanese love hotels show everything but discretion. Many love hotels are designed to have exaggerated signs with LED or neon lights all over and different themed rooms, so that people can fulfil their sexual fantasies with their partners.

In Taiwan, short stays have become so popular that there are now collaborations between hotels and on demand online booking platforms such as Fun Now. The platform provides users with a convenient mobile application to view and schedule short stays whenever, wherever. In the Fun Now application, there’s a dedicated button in the filter of the short stay section that reads a bold ‘NOW’, which I reckon is because sometimes sexual desires just can’t wait. Similar to short stays, booking platforms like Fun Now target youth, as the interface design, the copywriting for short stay products, and its nature of being a mobile application all favour the taste and habits of young Taiwanese. I believe this is proof of just how popular short stays are among the younger generations in Taiwan.

Nonetheless, the short stay only serves as a temporary solution to the problem. The core of the problem is that Taiwanese society still possesses an ambiguous and sometimes even hypocritical attitude towards sex. Even with many repeating the importance of sexual mores reformation, if not a radical revolution, their voices are still being silenced by the public’s deliberate ignorance. In recent years, Taiwanese society has made some giant leaps regarding sexual rights and freedom. One is the growth of public perception towards the Western concept of dating, thanks to the infiltration of social media, high viewership of Western television series via online video streaming services and common usage of mobile dating apps. Some social developments took such progress to an even grander level, like the legalisation of LGBTQ+ marriages, and removal of an inhuman article of the Criminal Code that punished adultery with imprisonment. But the truth is, these efforts are not at all enough.

Society needs an antidote to liberate itself from sexual repression. It should not be afraid to accept the fact that children’s curiosity about sex, gender and sexuality is actually natural and healthy. Parents and teachers need to open up and talk about sex with their kids. We need to acknowledge that, as humans, we develop senses for emotions and desires before we learn about developing relationships with others, rather than the other way around, just to maintain social mores. The substantial gap of knowledge and moral values among different generations will not disappear overnight, but it will never change if we continue to sit on our hands. Maybe one day we can truly, freely and openly talk about sex and enjoy it in a healthy, confident manner. Perhaps on that day, our future generations would finally have a world more welcoming and simply better.

Works Cited

Child Welfare League Foundation. 2016年臺灣兒童性教育知識調查報告 2016 nian Taiwan ertong xing jiaoyu zhishi diaocha baogao [2016 Taiwan children’s sex education knowledge survey report]. Child Welfare League Foundation, 2016.

Huang, Shu-ling, et al. 世紀之交臺灣人性行為分析：世代、性別、教育及婚姻狀態之交織差異 Shiji zhi jiao Taiwān ren xingxingwei fenxi: Shidai, xingbie, jiaoyu ji hunyin zhuangtai zhi jiaozhi chayi [An analysis of human sexual behavior in Taiwan at the turn of the century: Interwoven differences in generation, gender, education and marital status]. Formosan Journal of Sexology, Apr. 2010, pp. 1–28.

National Taiwan University Student Advisory Committee. 國立臺灣大學學生宿舍進出及會客辦法 Guoli Taiwan Daxue xuesheng sushe jinchu ji hui ke banfa [National Taiwan University student dormitory access and reception regulations]. National Taiwan University, 2018.

Republic of China (Taiwan). Youth Development Administration. “97年青年暨少年趨勢調查報告 97 nian qingnian ji shaonian qushi diaocha baogao [2008 youth and adolescent trends survey report]. Youth Development Administration, 2008.

Yang, Hsing-Chen. 性別好好玩：流行文化與情慾教學 Xingbie hao haowan: Liuxing wenhua yu qingyu jiaoxue [Sex is fun: Pop culture and the teaching of eroticism]. Kaohsiung: Chuliu, 2012.