Ocean Era in Taiwan

travel

Oct 12

Morning Swim

Today we rise at 7:30am and go to the beach for a “swim” (aka bouncing through the waves and trying not to get slapped). I am learning how to work through the waves, diving beneath or hopping over— growing more comfortable with the waters.

The village I am in is HOT. Sun scorches my skin as the humidity becomes a tight hug with no release until sunset. Hence, swimming in the waves is a necessary means to cool the body down and slow the heart from overexerting in homeostasis.

After the morning dip, I walked back through the village’s backroads. Small farms/gardens were eerily quiet and absent of anyone tending to them. There was a patch of 3-4 buses parked in the grass with plants wrapping and consuming them. Abandoned? Out of service? I wonder…

In Taiwan there are these giant snails that were imported from Africa. On my first day in Taipei three years ago, I met them. I was enchanted by the scale of an animal that I had otherwise known to be so small. On the walk, I found an empty snail shell. I thought of leaving it there in case another creature needed it as a home. I decided to be an annoying human thief and take the shell. These snails represent some cherish-able pasts I won’t get into here, and having the shell… seemed important.

I am settling. Adjusting at a good pace.

Internal Interlude

Hey girl hey, checking in from southeastern Taiwan!

I am volunteering at a surfing hostel in exchange for accommodation and a surfboard. I have yet to surf, but hopefully this afternoon will be the day. At this hostel, vibes are important, and as a staff member, there is a bit more hospitality work than I was expecting. Socializing with guests is a priority, but thankfully I have been American trained and can put on my fake smile.

Performative friendliness is beginning to turn into friendliness, actually. At some point in the past year, I had enough of being held back by my shyness. I think stress/expectation levels also played a part. Now, task lists no longer consume me. The “I should be doing something else” pounding while I would have conversation, has quieted. I shed that layer like a snake or crab. The instantaneity of moulting this shyness is quite surprising, yet I am quite proud to make it to this place.

With all of these character evolutions, particular people come to mind. People who I wish could see me now, in ways I couldn’t show up before. I am disappointed that these people (person) will not experience the benefits of my growth. For them to see me laugh with ease rather than weeks on the brink of breakdowns. But, I remind myself not to drown in the regret of who I could not be then; instead, I will celebrate who I am now. They could have stuck it out. They could have trusted that humans mold and grow. They could have trusted that, with me, things may take some extra time, but I do eventually come around. They did not trust.

But to those who have trusted the process and stayed with me through the long haul, I cherish your endurance. I hope this version of Stephanie suits your fancy, and I can share the best of me with the best of you.

Quick thoughts:

I want to learn the sea’s language. I want to be able to read the waves and know how to dance with them. I want to rock in rhythm with the current’s pulses with a board, with a paddle, or with my body as she is. Working alongside lifelong surfers and coastal dwellers, there is an intimacy here that personifies this blue mass. I want, even just a taste, of this knowledge and connection.
Presence. Live exactly as you need to, not as you think you “should” do.
The sesame paste buns are in the FamilyMart in this village. Am I a lucky girl or what?

Yummies from the village— vegan dry noodles & dumplings. This auntie is a queen. All handmade & the flavors are so rich for ~$2 per dish.

One day later…

Our Sacred Life

Yesterday was probably one of the most perfect days of my life. Perfect in its subtleties.

I will likely forget most of what happened yesterday. The events were not bucket list items that form peaks along my memory’s mountain range. Yesterday wasn’t my wooden canoe breaking deep at sea off the coast of Madagascar. Yesterday wasn’t seeing monkeys in the wild for the first time. Yesterday wasn’t graduating from a university where I travelled for four years consecutively. Yesterday wasn’t a milestone event or a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence.

Yesterday was perfect because it was the accumulation of many smaller acts. The routines and rituals that blend into passing time. I began my morning at 8 am with my language lesson. My friend’s aunt has kindly been teaching me her language for 1.5 months. Classes are online for one hour. Sometimes I am greatly confused, but slowly things are beginning to make sense.

Then comes brekkie. Basic as ever, but reliable: oats with chia seeds.

The day continued with some housekeeping computer work. While it may appear that I am traveling with no destination in mind, let me affirm to you that this is far from the case. Much of my day is, indeed, sitting perpendicular, typing away and working on my projects. Projects that are trees taking a long while to bear fruit. Be patient, and you will see my progress.
During this time I invested in some bubble tea (by invested I mean 50 NTD which is ~1.5 USD). There is a bubble tea shop squished against the place I am staying. Like living next to your drug dealer, buying becomes all too tempting. It was morning, though, so some oolong and boba was permissible. I will admit, I drained the cup quick as a mosquito.

Around 4pm I was at the beach surfing. Surfing is a new one for me, and certainly a challenge. Yesterday there were really no waves. One or two decent ones would come every seven minutes or so, but by that time I was already daydreaming and did not have enough time to turn, paddle, and catch the wave. I imagine reading the water and predicting their swell is like learning a language. The pronunciation of a wave depends on whether it breaks on the sand or a reef. The punctuation is dictated by distant winds.

There were only about six of us out there yesterday. With less people, there is more space to judge one another. As a beginner, I was certainly timid to try and make a fool of myself. I forced myself to push past this, paddling for a couple, and, of course, getting thrown off. Necessarily humbling. One surfer, as we both left the sea, gave me a banana. Very kind.

For dinner, I stopped at FamilyMart. Ideally, I would be cooking more, but I am struggling to figure out which ingredients would pair to create something easy and yummy. Instead, I settled on vegan onigiri and my classic sweet potato.

I ate my dinner on the balcony, overlooking both the ocean and mountains, depending on how I turned my head.

THEN… your girlie did it. She pulled out her erhu (Chinese traditional instrument), and played on the rooftop. I went through exercises that my Taiwanese teacher three years ago would introduce.

Music is one of my pillars. When I get a day to practice an instrument, the day already rates higher than average. From years of disciplined practice in classical guitar and flute since I was six or seven years old, I need music to stay on beat. To not rush, and to not lag behind. Music is also the easiest path to my flow state. My head clears as all my attention circles these vibrations. I ended my music session playing “Oogway Ascends” from Kung Fu Panda.

After leaving Taiwan for the first time, I spent four months learning this piece. The piece is simple when instructions are laid out, but finding erhu resources in English is a challenge. I spent four months trying to memorize the piece. Not only remember it, but be able to perform the piece under the pressure of an 100+ person audience. I haven’t played a piece by memory since I messed up on stage when I was 8-years-old. Ever since then, I would raise my music stand to cover my face. I knew the music, but I didn’t trust myself.

At the end of those four months, I performed “Oogway Ascends.” Memorized. That day, I had a panic attack that took me to the floor. Panic attacks were new to me at the time, but soon would be more reoccurring that I would care to admit.

I digress. The point is, every time I play this song, I ascend sort of like Oogway (except for the dying part). My soul floats with the melody and I celebrate how far I have come.

But can you believe this? Practicing erhu on the rooftop is not the end to the perfect day.

Last night was the Mid-Autumn festival in Taiwan. Long after sunset, myself and a few people from the hostel pedaled on rusted bikes with deflated tires down to the ocean. With the Mid-Autumn festival occurring with the full moon, the moon’s light dazzles along the water, making it safer to swim at night.

We made our wave through the waves, diving beneath the big ones and flipping our backs to get slapped by the shallower ones. We floated, staring up at the far-off mass that gifts us light. We tried to body surf.

Swimming at night under moonlight is holy, in a way. There is something sacred that pulls my body up towards the sky and extracts all grief and worry. I understand why religious ceremonies include water. The element makes one feel things that my English vocabulary can only describe as deeply sacred.

I took some moments to myself, silencing the chatter by sinking my ears under the sea. Thank you, ocean. Thank you.

After the swim, we joined a bonfire along the rocks. A group, sitting on a piece of driftwood, were jamming on two guitars and a drum. Old Stephanie would simply listen and maybe sing along if my voice could blend into a chorus. New Stephanie asked to try out the drum. I closed my eyes, envisioned my week of Ghanian drum lessons and times watching tableh performers in Pakistan. I felt a rhythm, and I ran with it. My right hand cupped to create a filling bass with the pad below my left thumb slapping a tang and the right side of my left palm slapping a rang. I played around a simple set, filling between the down beats. I brushed my fingers for a softer rain. Together, with the guitarists, we swelled and waned like the tides we played besides. I flowed. I really truly flowed. I forgot all others around me. I was the darkness of the sea and sky, finding my glow beneath the moon.