When This Path is Blocked, on Commuting

Memories, translated…

We’d moved from Banciao to Dalongtong, Taipei when I was in the elementary years, and, I didn’t transfer to a school that’s in district after we moved, and because of that, I’d had, a memorable time in commuting to school. Being young, but needed to face the challenges of going to school out of county and district, this was, a hard challenge for me, while I was very young, and, I’d carried that unsettled heart to ride the busses out in the morns, worried, that if I’d, dozed off, I might just, miss my stops.

not my photo…

And, surely enough, there were, a couple of times, I’d, overslpet, but, after that time that I rode all the way to Taipei Bridge, I’d decided, that getting home isn’t that hard after all. I’d recalled that right after the bus got off the bridge, I woke, and on the other side of the bridge, was an unfamiliar scene to me, and, in a panic, all I could do was, walk back toward the other side of the bridge in my own panic, I didn’t get home, until pretty late that evening, and, my parents were too worried, that they’d had a fight because of it too.

Back then, my mother would hand me my busfare daily, but, times were hard, and so, all I had each day, were the busfares for that day, and, she’d known, that I’d, prepared some money myself, and, would decide on whether or not to put the extra fares into my wallet or not. And so naturally, after I’d gone past my stop, there was no extra money to ride my way back again, but gladly, it was NO big deal, having to walk back. But, there was, that one time, that made me fear, that I might not get home at all.

Back then, the bus drove to Beimen area, and, there was, a temple celebration of sorts, the roads were closed, and, I’d followed the crowd off early. Wonderful, the bus, or my feet, couldn’t get me home this time, and I had, NO money in my pockets, and, as I was pacing back and forth, I saw a tricycle, hauled by a man, and, I’d flagged one down, just get on it first, it’s not as if, the driver would know, that I couldn’t pay him, I’ll just, get the money from my parents when I got home. I’d, ridden that tricycle, leisurely, back to my home, which was also, my father’s wielding factory too, and, time to pay the fees, but, neither one of my parents was home then, there was only, my father’s apprentice working there. Oops, I’d had to, help me pay for the fares.

Time passed by so quickly, a lot of things had, escaped my memories, but, this interesting event stayed for some reasons. And, that young apprentice who’d helped pay for my ride is now, an owner of a grander scale business, and he’d still remembered what happened that day, and, would often make fun of me, not having any money, and riding on the tricycles. Well, how else would I, get home?

not my drawing…

So, this, is a memory that you hold dear to you, probably because you were, so scared, and that, was why, it’d stuck, and, you’d, cherished the assistance given to you by your father’s apprentice too, and, because of his help, that, is what makes this event so memorable to you.

 

 

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