A date for these best friends, on Valentine’s Day, to sneak away to a relaxing sauna together, to that hotel, for an, overnight, stay…translated…
She took the drive for two hours to come, I’d disregarded how sharpened my department manager’s looks on me was, I’d, clocked, out.
We hired a driver, set out from the Danshui MRT station, the dying light of sun was, quickly, replaced by, the darkened shadows of sunset, the driver inquired curiously, “Why are you two ladies headed up the mountains so late?”
“To see the cherry blossoms at night,” she’d responded, in a shy kind of way.
From before, the plans of this never caught up to reality, the cherry blossoms withered away earlier than we’d expected, thankfully, there’s enough lighting, and the set up of the Tienyuan Temple was just right, with a ray of soft pink, it’d, illuminated, all our, disappointments. We’d not felt defeated because of this, still, went happily, like we’d planned, to the springs hotel in Beitou.
in a springs hotel like this one…photo from online
We’d booked the hotel a year back, that room with a view to the Japanese style garden, all to ourselves. We’d had a special Japanese traditional supper, and, had our soaks in the open hot tub, as we walked through the garden of the hotel, a cherry tree was in, full blossom.
“The trees must feel pity on us,” she’d told me. I’d smiled, shaken my head, believed, that it’s the heavens, that’s allowed us, who can, only, sneak out together, once a year, as we’d, busied ourselves in the families and at work, to get pampered, on Valentine’s Day.
wine and dine with her bestie…photo from online
So, this is a, sort of a “secret date” for the two of you, best girlfriends, to sneak away, from your ordinary schedule, planned something special the two of you finally get to do together, as the two of you, are both, busying around all year long…
How thumbing across this illustrated book had, helped you gained more of an understanding about life, how it’s okay, to just, drift a bit, to be in no hurry, to where you’re headed towards in life, because everything will have its, time, just like the destiny of the river, is in the ocean that it poured itself out into…translated…
Whenever I’d gotten off from my language school sessions, if the library was open, I’d dragged my tired body, gone into the shelves, read a couple of, illustrated, books. Why did I come to this faraway country? Why am I taking course this tongue so, foreign? To get a wider spectrum of this world, to make a larger, blueprint of my own, life.
An illustrated book called, “Okavango—a River that Longed to See the Oceans”, it’d, called out to, me. The book described how the Okavango started from the stomach of the earth, coming out, seeped slowly, flowed on quietly, extended itself past the Angora Plateaus, silently, kept on, marching, onward, slowly, becoming, a fuller and more, complete, river, and at this moment of time, the Okavango realized its own, destiny: “I’m destined to go and see the, ocean!”
Coming to France, I was in search of my own, destiny too. During the pandemic, with the sharp drop in my workload, I’d started, losing that zest for life, the direction, as well as the motivations for my own, life, although I’d, attempted to find these back, but I’d lacked that, drive to. Aimlessly, I’d, used my tablet, and, I’d heard a saying: reason why we can’t find our dreams, mostly it’s because we all know so little, we’d, restricted our own, selves!
A lot of things that might become our, destinies, or maybe, they’re, outside of the world we’d, structured for our, selves. And so, I’d decided, to set out, to explore, to expand my life, arrived in, France! Like the Okavango rushing toward its own, future, destiny.
And yet, the river was, blocked by the Kalahari Desert, despite how the Okavango used all its might to rage forward, still, it got, split down into, many, estuaries, and, it’d, weathered through the strong winds too. Seeing how its water slowly, got lost with the sands, the heated wind that evaporated it away, the river was upset, and cried, “Won’t I, ever get to, see the, oceans, again?”
a book like this, that became, a threshold guardian to her in a foreign world…image found online
The wind reminded the river, “You will evaporate, vanish in the, deserts, becoming the clouds, the rains, and arrive to the peaks of the, tall, tall mountains, becoming the creeks, and the rivers, again. At the same time, you’d, quenched the thirsts of, many, plants, and, built a, fertilized, delta where it is fit for the vegetations to grow there.”
The process may be, the destination, in our rushing from day to day, we may be, fulfilling our destinies, piece by, piece, little by, little. So, I’m also, an inland river, that just, couldn’t see the wide, oceans too!
The Okavango finally, accepted the wind that came to, evaporate it, vanished into, the deserts. While I am still, on my way, learning to, use different faces, structures, and elements, marching toward my own, destiny, too.
So, this is on how lost this person felt, until she’d stumbled across the threshold guardian (the illustrated book from the library), which then, took her on a small journey of discovery, to where she’s, headed in life, and, the book served as a sort of a guide, helping her know and note, that there’s no need to press onward, that she could, take things, slowly, and just, follow this river of life that’s taking her somewhere…
What you remembered, weren’t the rides, but the way your uncle looked and felt, after he had, enough rest, after he woke from the nap, when you and your families were in the amusement park…translated…
Is the Amusement Park, a Magical Wand that Betters Our, Lives, or, is it, a Military Competition of the, Childhood, Years?
Is an, only child, lonely? No. I’m, truthful in answering this, question, propping up the umbrellas, putting that bucket over my head, to hear the sounds of, rain, using an entire afternoon to watch the bubbles come out of that can of, soda, it’s, quite, interesting to me. But, there’d been only those two times, I got, physically punished by mom, when I wanted to play out longer with my friends, refused to, come, home.
The one pulling was my mother, worried of me being too introverted, her too. In those days of quiet, my classmates would inquire: Yen, how come you only told about your mother?
And I may have a more, socialized answer now, but, the true answer inside my heart is: if there’s a disaster, there are, some members of the family whom you can count on, more than, others.
illustration from UDN.com
Reason why this was, I have two uncles. My youngest uncle took me to the barbecue outdoors, while my eldest uncle took me on those, roller coaster, rides.
In those days where there was an overflowing number of amusement parks, it was the summer, my eldest uncle said he will take all of us, younger generation of children, on a tour of a buffet of the amusement parks all over, the, island, like a two-style barbecue, the thrilling, the nature, we had an “all we can play” in the amusement parks on this, island.
What I’d expected, I think was the high flying rides, the more thrilling, faster, exciting, rides, although, as I got older, I’d, driven down a freeway with no light on, riding on those, winds. There’s, that golden glow of the amusement parks, with the brand new feel of, bliss, that we can’t, point to all with our two hands. The churros got turned into the sugar-glazed, magic wands.
The Argo Gardens, after the crowd dissipated, there’s the entire pond of, leisure of the day off, so, the athletic game show wasn’t a specially set up tent of activities, but taped in this, location. I walked above these platforms, felt like I was, on, T.V.
The night ride toward the dawn, it was the alarms from the forest, of the thick fog too, what made us hold our breaths in, weren’t the zombies that may, pop out, but the light that came, that light, the circular disc from high up in the, skies. On one side, the mountain, the other, the, valley the headlights, malfunctioned, my uncle, tensing every muscle travelled on the, yellow, line, the light from opposite, HIT us in the, eyes.
The afternoon of a few days later, close to the end of our trip, the car was parked, out of the walls of the palace. Inside, the Taiwanese tourist attraction villages, we were sleeping all the way, now we’d become, recharged completely, but uncle said he couldn’t, get us, in.
Too weird, I’d thought then, if we don’t go in, then why did we, come, here? Several hours later, we carried the, shiny memories, back out of the, village, seeing my uncle got up from the backseat of the car, he, who was covered by the hat, became, recharged, and, brand new.
the rides you’d gone on that day that you could, no longer, recall…photo from online
And now, I’d gotten to his, same, age, with the Lioufu Park close by, but only gone once, and, the amusement park got, turned into, a wildlife, reserve.
Are the amusement parks the magical stone for children, or, is it, the competition preparing us for the, military, life? The kids zoomed in on the Mayan adventure rides, the adults may see, the sight with the joyous children in play in their, minds. But, after all this time, I’d forgotten, most of the rides I got on that time, but what I remembered, was my uncle, having had his share of, needed, rest, with his hands on the steer, illuminating.
So, this is, what you, remembered, of that childhood outing, NOT the places you’d gone, but how someone had, made an, impact in your, childhood years, and, it didn’t matter if you remember the fun day you had that day at the amusement park or not, you’d, made an, everlasting memory of the day, of your, uncle, who’d, driven too long, too hard, and needed that, nap!
A hiking trip with a friend, to get to those, cherry, blossoms that the two of you wish to see…translated…
Most of Times, What Traveling Together is, is the Process of Going through the Exchanges of Our, Verbiage………
First time I went camping up the mountains, it was on a cold February. My friend gave me a lift with her car, and we’d winded up the roads, slowly, getting higher, up. Don’t know what grade it was we’d learned, that with every 1,000 meters altitude, the temperatures would drop six degrees Celsius. The higher we were, the fogs and the clouds, passed the car, we’d begun, driving in the inside of the, clouds. Rolling down the windows, I could still see the barely visible, forests and mountains, I used my cell phone to take a shot, and, all I got were, a screen of, white. My friend, on the driver’s seat, focused, on navigating the way, without asking, laughed at me, “can’t get anything, can you? This is, the “white wall”, everything is completely, blocked from sight, can’t see a, thing.”, and I’d, gotten a technical term of the, climbers then.
illustration from UDN.com
Closer we got to the peak, the colder the temperature, the cherry blossoms were, blooming crazier than at lower altitudes, and, we’d, finally, got to the, camping site that’s nine-degrees higher up, but with a nine-degrees temperature drop, there were, a lot of families, already set up their tents. My friend starved bringing out the chairs, the stove, and the cookware, made a pot of Korean-style instant noodle, kimchi tofu with sausage and cheese, we got one bowl each, and, as we were fed, we’d begun, putting our, tents, together. The structures of the tents, weren’t really, that complex, but because it was my first time, I’d gotten, flustered, trying to help, or maybe, it’d taken me, longer than usual, the spacious tent had a bedroom and a living room, the mattresses were filled up with the air, plump now. My friend gloated, “our home is, built!”, and so, I’d smiled, too, even if it wasn’t family, as we come camping, this is, a portable, home that we have. Stationed here for a night, the following day, packing it all, in, leaving, nothing.
We wandered around the campsite, checked the various species of cherry blossoms, the pink, the red, the white ones, all in, bundles, almost caused the agoraphobia. The countless buds were stuck on the branches, like the fists, punching toward the, skies, but couldn’t, hit a, thing, in the cold temperatures, the palms, spread out, and, the stamen, right in the center of the, palms, a three-dimensional, palm print.
setting up the tents…photo from online
Returning back to the tent for a quick nap, my friend wrapped a blanket around her, closed her eyes, she’d looked, safe and, snuggly. I’d recalled the term I’d learned in my Japanese language class “Floral Fatigue”, meaning the fatigue that overcomes the body after going out to see the cherry blossoms, including the physical, the mental, to change the loss of knowing that the flowers will, wither away soon, that slight, emotional, jolt. My friend let out a light sound, was about to, doze off then. As we woke back up, we’d, prepared a pot of sour cabbage with the meat slices, the bubbly soup, with the heat and the smells seeped out, the temporary family, eating this, temporary, meal, we are, still, very, happy at this time.
Most of times, travels is, nothing more than, trading the words together. I’d learned of the “white wall”, while I’d taught my friend about the “floral fatigue”, or maybe, this was, the biggest gain, of, this, trip.
So, it’s the, exchanges that the two of you had come to share, that’s, most important, not the sights that you two saw on your, adventures together, and, that just showed, how company, is always, the MOST important thing, when you go out to travel on the trips, so, be selective in choosing WHO you’re, traveling with, because that, would be, the determinant of how good or BAD your trips, are.
How the trips you took with your families, brought back those memories of the trips you took with your own family of origin growing up…translated…
“Did you go on family vacations as a kid?”
“Yes, and no.” We were on the Charlie Bridge in Czech, lining up, to pat that statue that’s said to bring us good luck.
“What are you saying? I don’t, understand!”
“We’d gone around the island, but my grandfather wasn’t, there.”
“Didn’t your grandfather feel bad, getting left out? Only he didn’t, go?”, my youngest daughter did not me get away, with, this casual, response.
“He’d not come home a long, long time, grandma was upset, told us to, not bother with him, let’s go sightsee now!”
Her words, opened up the Pandora’s Box of my childhood, trips.
Back in the early eighties, being able to travel around the island was, such an, extravagance, all I knew, was that mom had, hired a cab driver she knew, and we’d, begun that trip, without my father, but was still, very, blissful.
We didn’t have a adult male in our lives, the three of us, with the cab driver, we were like, a, family.
That summer of my fifth grade, we’d owned the beaches of Kenting, with the bluer than blue seas, all the way, eastbound, arrived in Hualien, Taidong, then, far, far up north to, Taipei, visited the zoo in Yuanshan, before it’d, relocated, we also went to see that giant clock made of flowers on Yangming Mountain too…………..
I was overjoyed, of having the very first white dress, with the dress shoes, and in all the photos, my younger brothers were, making those, faces, nor would they, think about our father, who never came home, and always had other women in his, arms, all they cared were that they got the toys, and had ice cream all day long.
My mother was lightly made up in her long dress on this trip, the mom that’s, gentle and mild mannered, not the version of her, that took me along, to SMASH things up at my father’s gambling tables.
Or maybe, she’d, already, planned this as the final trip that we will, come to, share as a, family.
the illustration from UDN.com
Later, I’d always, reviewed over all of these memories when I’d felt, the most, helpless, the radiance of the sun in Kenting, the long, never-ending coastline along Hualien, Taidong, how my mother kept, tying the bow on the back of my little dress, that kept, falling, off.
I wanted to keep those memories of the trip intact, to the time of when our family hadn’t, fallen, to pieces.
As we returned from the trip, within a year, one day we came home from school, and, we were, abandoned, in a home, without, our, parents. What came after, and after that, are the, never-ending, stories.
The memories of childhood, got covered up in the travels to make the new memories, like the imaginations of my past, it’d, fueled the future maps of my traveling.
As we passed the wavelike crowd, patted that glowing statue of St. John of Nepomuk, I’d believed, that I shall be, blessed with the good luck, and wished that in the not far away future, we will still, get to, travel to some unknown country, to eat the strange foods, to speak in the grammatically incorrect ways, to even getting into a fight because we took a wrong, turn.
As my youngest was graduating high school, we’d been saving up for the trip, and finally, the whole family got to Austria and Czech. Then after that, the kids left for school, and the family trips for four, temporarily, halted. And finally, it was just me and J, heading off into the, distances, looking at the majestic, beautiful, strange, sights, enjoying the foods of the locality, experiencing, any and every new and interesting, thing together.
Sometimes, I’d, recalled our trips as a family together, in the trips I was taking, if we are together as a whole family, that would be, perfect.
But you’re, not, and that’s how it is, sometimes, we are too hung up on the losses of childhood, we’d, worked too hard, to fulfill that lacking in our younger years, tried to make up to ourselves, and our young children (the ones inside, and the physical ones that we may have), giving them the worldly experiences that we never could get as young children, and, that’s how we’re, trapped by these, pasts of, ours, but we will, grow up, but never, out of those, memories of the supposedly happier days we should have as children.
Needing some, enlightenment, and you’d found it, through, following that thought, crossing the bridge, in search, of some, peace of, mind…translated…
To find that, four-leaf, clover, you had to get pass the alleys of the busy regions of An-Ping, ride toward His-Ping-Tai. And, the condense houses got, replaced by the rows of, Madagascar almond, as the salty wind came from all directions, that was, a signal, that I was, closing in, to the oceans, and I can’t help, but pedaled, faster, running toward, the Four-Leaf Clover Bridge, to welcome the embrace of, the oceans.
Coming here, I’d originally, only aimed at, killing the time, temporarily, escaping the trying moments of, losing my, job, and, walking into the wetlands, to visit serendipitously, without knowing, that there’s magic, hidden in the, mangroves, hypnotizing those, souls without, places to, settle down, in…………when I came to, I’d become, a part of that, mangrove, stared, foolishly, into, the, oceans.
the place where the writer went…photo from online
Not long thereafter, I got blamed, for, being a, parasite, swallowed whole by the disappointments, and other thoughts, turned into, the beasts on flight, that would get flustered that flew out from the forests, and quickly, found my hiding place, back in the, forests, again.
Thankful, I got my human forms back soon enough, because, I’d allowed my thoughts, to get wrapped tight by the red mangrove, they had the magical sort of the aerial roots, turning all my worries into, nutrients, and, absorbing, them, deleted my anxiousness, my worries.
After I got purified, I’d walked to the salt farm that’s deserted, there was a deserted small temple there. First sight, it’d felt, out of, place, looking at it closely, the yellow, the brown porcelain, the residual red paint on the poles, the green paint that’s, faded on the guardians of the doorways, this sort of a combination, had that, sort of, a unison that was very, balanced, beautiful that it’d taken, my, breaths, away.
and here’s what gave her the peace of mind she desperately, searched, for…photo from online
What’s impressive, was the eyes on the guardians of the doorway, they’d not lost their glows due to the years on the place, and, can this be attributed to the painter who’d painted these portraits on the doors, or, is there, the guardians who, really, DO, exist? While the cranes on the tiles on the ground, glistened under the sunlight, like they were, about, to flap their wings, and, soar off at any moment, to watch over this, land. This may be, a sort of, a path that’s, pointed out for me, helping me learn, that no matter what life may bring, we are not, alone in the world, that we’re all, watched over, by something, bigger, not abandoned by the heavens above.
So, this, is how you’d, found that peace that you’d, lost back, trekking some place, and, you’d, been lost, in search of the four-leaf clover that would bring you the luck you needed, and, you’d, allowed your legs, to take you to where it is that you’re, supposed to be, and found, that sense of peace, in your, walking in the city, and, found the resolves in your life, and you’d become, settled down.
How sometimes, what’s unplanned, is the best thing that can happen, how this species that the owner of this botanical place planted, became, the STAR of the SHOW in the park! Translated…
It was, the end of winter, the beginning of, springtime, I’d visited the famous forest park in Tainan, and it was, like what I’d seen on the photos from online, the light purple misty plume bush was such a beautiful, sight to sese.
If it were only just one tree, we would’ve mistaken it as some unnamed, wildflowers, but, when the trees were accumulated, it’d become beauty in the, numbers, like the writer, Hsu had once said.
the photo the writer took, courtesy of UDN.com
The owner of this place said to us gleefully, that at first, he’d started with the roses, the purple misty plume bushes were only a supporting actor, and yet, they’d become famous, and became, the star of the shows, this was totally, unexpected, that this supporting “performer” became the main attractions.
Walking in the forest with the purple misty plume bushes, I’d forgotten about the existence of those, roses completely.
And so, this is, how unexpected the results of something is, you did NOT plan for this particular species that usually isn’t the “star of the show” to be on centerstage, but, it took centerstage just the same, and became, the main attraction of what attracted people to visit this place, and, because they’re large in numbers, that’s why, they get noticed by the visitors, had it been only a few trees, instead of more, then, people would probably walk by these plants, without giving them, a second, thought.
Taking mom out to an adventure, and she’d, certainly, appreciate it, the views of a mother, who was also once, a daughter who took her own mother on the trips by car too…translated…
With my child behind the wheels, driving along the Yunlin Coastlines, leaving this, noisy city behind us, with the reduction of cars on the road, the people, my heart slowly, calmed, down too. We’d arrived at Kouhu, what came into my sight was this, cleanly village, the murals that made the walls so colorful, the community building successful is showing here; and, there’s the storytelling places like the entrance to the seas, the Chenglong Wetlands, the field where the oysters were set and raised, waiting to be harvested, there’s, so many sights to see here, such a, small but, beautiful village this is! It was an amazing sight, watching the sun going down by the Jinghu Port, the enormous sun radiated out the warmth, and the light, dyeing the skies into, a bright red-orange, and, following, the sun started, hiding behind those, clouds, the majestic sight made me exclaimed, “Thank you, sunset!”
family ROADTRIP!!! Photo from online
Recalled how when it was me who’d taken my parents here from before, the moment that my mother, who’s passionate and sentimental saw the sun go down, she’d, bowed down to it, “Thank you so much, for gracing me with your beauty.”, that was, what my mother said then. I’m more than grateful, that in the past, I’d been given the opportunity to bring my parents out to venture to places on the weekends and holidays, to treat them to the foods; and now, my father’s gone away, and my mother had also, become, immobilized too, and, every time we go out, she’d needed to rely on the handicap buses, to move her wheelchair up and down, and this sort of an outing had, halted for a long, long time.
This day after our meal, we sat on the rocking chair of the restaurant, getting some sea breezes, I’d felt so much, peace, felt immensely, blessed. On our way back, I’d asked my son, “How was this trip for you?”, he’d replied, sentimentally, “like how we’d taken grandpa and grandma out, having the special foods in the local diners we visited, I’d felt, blessed.”
Yes, certainly, my son and I were, connected, from before, when we got my parents home, waving goodbye, my mother also said, graciously, “thank you for taking me out, I’m so very, blessed!”, the times are no longer, the same, the scenes were switched on this, very, evening, my kids took me out on the adventures here. Before we parted ways, I’d said the same thing to my son, like what my mother told me, many, a year, ago.
So, there’s, the memories you’d made on your trips out with your own parents, on this particular trip that your son took you out on, and, this still just showed, how the love is passed down from one generation to the next, and that the kids will model after the adults, and, you got to share some amazing time with your own adult son, like how you’d, cherished the outings you took your parents on from before.
Leisure and time on the hands, to, venture out, to travel around town, to live on one’s own, schedules…life after retirement, it’s still, wonderful here…translated…
Traveling Alone, is Alternative Joy of Life, Do What We Want to, When We Want to, Free as a Bird. Stop, Go, Eating, Drinking……All on Our Own, Schedules
I’d, slung that backpack over my back, before the cold front gets here, headed up to Chingtiengang! Next to the Jientan M.R.T. Station, the Red-15 busstop already had a long line, the elderly, the older adults, lined up, chit chatting, away. Finally, the second bus came, and I’d, finally, squeezed myself onboard, other than there’s no more seats, the standing room was, completely, occupied. A group of foreigners who seemed to be hikers, all, squeezed on too, they’re really tall, and had to, slouch over in the bus, to NOT hit their heads.
The bus drove for a little over half an hour, finally, reached Chingtiengang, and, the originally sunny weather turned, foggy, the visibility was reduced to five meters ahead. I’d recalled back in college, the small cabin here sold the instant noodles, with the available hot water to make the noodles from, and, a bowl made us all, satisfied. And yet, there’s no noodles sold here, there’s that, sense of, desolation now, and, the freeness of my youth, gone instantly.
Walking toward the hiking trail that leads to the huge open, plains, on the left, there’s the “Land Guardian Temple of the Slopes”, with the “Fudetong” of the Ching Dynasty behind, although they’re both, petite, they were, both, the oldest temples on this trail, the Yulu Trail. And the hikers would offer a stick of incense, for a safe passage. The hexagonal gazebo on the upper left, with the slogans of loving our country from the armed services, this was the sentinel check station of the army base that was once here, there was still the three-hole rifle shooting point, and, you can imagine, how hard those military men must’ve had it, stationed in this location.
The grassland before my sight, turned all white, couldn’t see the oxen that grazed here, I’d felt, a bit, disappointed. With only the strong wind, and the layers of white fog that comes before my sight now, couldn’t see the scenery, nor was it, possible for me to tell east from west, and for the sake of safety, I’d, decided, to head off.
illustration from UDN.com
Heading off the mountains, soon as the bus made a turn, the sun started, shining down from behind those dark, clouds, and as the bus took me away from the mountains, the skies grew brighter still! There’s nobody I was traveling with, with whom I can share a conversation with, but, I’d felt at ease, and was more able to lift my head up, to see the, clouds in the beautiful, blue, skies, to enjoying the sights of the clouds, moving between the tops of the mountain ranges. Under the scorching sun, the decorative art filled up the passages on Zhongshan N. Road, with the exotic diners one after the next, and the next, the trees on the sidewalk, changed colors with the sun, the elderly and the dogs, sitting on the lawn, with that foreign woman, pushing her baby around in the, strollers…………
Venturing alone, is another way of enjoying life, go as I pleased, free as a bird, stop, and go at my own time, and schedule, foods, drinks, all on my own, terms…………Venturing alone not only awakens the senses, for me to take everything around me in, I also get to meet up with new acquaintances on my trips. So long as you are willing to open up your front door, with the MRT tickets, or the elderly discount tickets, bravely, venture, outward, you are in control, of how huge, or how small your world after retirement becomes.
And so, there’s, no more rush, because you’re now, retired, you can slow the paces of your life down, and just, enjoy, life. It’s such, a wonderful thing, to have this sort of leisure for sure!
Quite different, from when we go out with the younger generations, there’s, that more amicable atmosphere, as the elders in the group, treated everybody who was younger, like their, own younger generations, translated…
Lately, I’d, followed the elderly tour groups to travel out, and, their energies, their passions, are truly, amazing to me.
Recalled how the very first time I’d started traveling with them, as I just got situated on the tour bus, the guide called out, “sit yourselves down, have some porridge.”, she’d lifted up the giant stainless steel keg, scooped out bowl after bowl of taro porridge, at the same time, she’d told us, that this, was the group member, Mei, waking up early at four, to prepare for us to have for breakfasts, then, the hollers started, applauses sounded off, and thank you. Mei’s face blushed, smiled and told, “it’s no big deal, adding more water to the rice, then, it’d turned into, porridge.”
Then, the tour guide started, handing out Grandma Wu’s homemade peanut with the dried fish, Sister Kim’s best dish—the salted rice balls wrapped in bamboo leaves with the red bean paste inside, Uncle Chang’s stewed bean curd, etc., etc., etc., wait, aren’t we, headed off to Xitou for a hike? How come it got turned into, a dining tour?
the makeup of the tour group of mostly elderly people…photo from online
After we’d had the foods, we’d all become, very, spirited, the elderly started singing karaoke, not just singing though, Grandpa Liu who was a fruit vender, was a self-taught erhu player, and the erhu he was playing, he’d made himself, the song “Ludao Serenade” seeped out from his wrinkled, and dark hands, it’d felt, even more, weathered.
Last month, I’d ventured to Middle Vietnam with the elderly, Grandma Liu went to the temple, asked for seventeen blessing pouches for all of us, the members of the group, and stressed that “Wear it and you will feel blessed”, such a cute elderly woman.
The guide for this tour was quite petite, as Grandma Chun-Mei learned that she’d been working in the tours for four rounds nonstop, she’d pulled out the ginseng packs for the guide, and the guide told her, that her company order was that she couldn’t take anything from the tourists she was leading, Grandma Chun-Mei opened her eyes wide up, told her, “I’m your grandmother, NOT your client!”
After the tour, the guide said goodbye to us, her eyes turned red, she’d hugged every single elderly, she said, “I’d never been to Taiwan, but, you’d, shown, that the most beautiful sight in Taiwan are the, people.”, whoa, never thought, that this group of elderly person on tour, can become, a means of diplomacy.
Following the elders out on tour, amazing!
And so, this, is a group, that didn’t calculate, didn’t nickel and dime about anything, because, they’re all, elderly, and been through the major ups and downs of their lives already, and so, they’d, carried that, heart to ordinariness, when they went on this tour to Vietnam, and showed the tour guide their kindness, and it’d, touched the tour guide.
JUST the Unwinding of Thoughts 