Hualien

As we snaked our way through the countryside of Taiwan Thursday evening, vibrant shades of green sprang out against a backdrop of deep foliage across looming mountains, the likes of which are everything you would dream to be the norm in Asia. The air grew more humid and the sea crawled closer to our windows the further along we flew on the train tracks, rain pelting the windows. We pulled into a busy city that clearly felt like a beach town, met some Mormon missionaries (who immediately let us know they weren’t wasting time), and stopped at a McDonald’s for our first American meal in over a week. Bellies full, we drove off to our hostel in large vans that somehow squeezed down tiny allies and through impossibly small cracks to our charmed hostel in the little beach town of Hualien.

We slept on beds that didn’t bruise our hips for the first time since arriving in Asia, in this hostel owned by a man and woman who were so thrilled to cater to us that every time we came and went all weekend they were sure to see us off and welcome us home.  There were rubber shoes to wear in the house and Wifi for every room. The showers were warm and the toilets were clean- a rarity here. Friday morning we woke up early and ate a breakfast of Taiwanese oatmeal, eggs with ketchup, sweet bread, and orange juice.  With swimsuits and towels, we took an hour-long bus ride into an aboriginal village in the mountainside of Hualien.

We pulled up into a breathtaking canyon with sheer walls of gray and silver rock and lush green trees covering the mountainside. We were handed thick wetsuits to put on over our swimsuits (good thing it was only 95*F with 80% humidity), sturdy rubber boots, large life vests, and helmets, and told to put it all on. Our 6 river guides helped us stretch out and then we made our way across broken concrete, over steps and puddles and down into a shallow river where we were told to sit in the water and cool off- we were all ridiculously sweaty at this point. The hike began by trekking across a river, against a current. We walked over boulders and rocks and up into the other bank, hiking through a jungle to a clear blue pool where we swam around and floated in a line, splashing each other and laughing at the sheer beauty that surrounded us, relishing the feeling of summer and nature.

The hike continued deeper into the jungle. We chatted as we went and teased each other, laughing as we passed spiders bigger than any we had ever seen. Aboriginal people passed with their face tattoos and rods piercing their ears, smelling strongly of smoke. We found another pool with large boulders and immediately back flopped off of one rock, jumping off another, and finally climbing up the mountainside a bit to take a 20 foot plunge into the water, flushing our sinuses and popping our ears but feeling overjoyed with adrenaline and happiness as we floated around. The Taiwanese river guides had us all link arms and float in a circle. When we asked the purpose of this exercise, we learned it was just to enjoy. All of the Americans were giggly and loud, while the Taiwanese patrons were silent and seemed to never question the purpose of such an exercise.

We had ramen made in large pots of boiling river water, took millions of pictures, and hiked back out. My legs were feeling heavy and I tried to not worry about not making it out- and it wasn’t too much of a problem J I made it without any issues. That is a blessing.

We came home and slept, went out for pork buns and pineapple and mango smoothies in the market, took another 3 hour nap, and then went to night market.  We enjoyed dinner at an American owned barbecue house called Salt Lick where we met some Dutch men, one of whom is studying industrial design in Tainan. He carried on a conversation with me over the urinal stall while he peed, then promptly came out and shook my hand after rinsing them in water for ½ second. Sick. The barbecue was good though. The night market felt like a carnival, but we found mango ice and became best friends with the owners. It surpassed any ice cream or frozen yogurt I’ve ever had- it was creamy and the fruit was fresh.

People danced and sang and laughed around us, and stared as we walked past. We danced with a street performer and paid him our coins, then hopped in cabs and came back to our sweet hostel where I snuggled on my bed with four dear friends and watched part of a movie before falling asleep at about 11:30.

This morning we woke up slowly and packed as we talked about the people we love back home and our future hopes and plans.  The bus took us away from our hostel at 8:30 and we waved good bye to the sweet hostel man, Steven, who said, “Sank you” over and over again after taking a picture with our whole group.  We drove on a bus with a tall aboriginal driver whose name none of us could pronounce. He took us to the most beautiful gorge I have ever seen in my life. Toroko gorge is a place off of a highway built by men in the 20^th century, many of whom died. We climbed past boulders larger than houses, up past huts and spiders as big as my hand, to a small stall with three darling children and a woman with pointed nails selling rocks. I couldn’t not purchase the key chain- she needs my money more than I do, and every time I see it I will remember those precious children who said to me, “Hello!” and smiled when I told them I loved them. We climbed steps cut into the side of a mountain, past a monastery full of practicing monks, into a bell tower overlooking scenes I never thought I would see. My legs shook under me as we climbed back down- I get weak unexpectedly sometimes. But I made it, again. I am learning to not be afraid when I get shaky and weak. It’s just part of my life now. We put on hard hats and walked through tunnels and into another part of the gorge, then hopped onto the bus and got Japanese curry for lunch, stopping for fresh fruit juice again, barely making it to our train.

Now, as the sun sets in the cloudy sky and green flashes past my window, I feel an immense sense of awe that surrounding me is ancient history and a culture that I can never fully comprehend but that I have the privilege of visiting for just a month.  The Taiwanese people make me want to be better, kinder, and more loving. My life is full of things- anything that I could ever ask for and more. But what matters I am learning is not what I have, but how others feel when they are with me, regardless of who they are or how long we interact. Beauty is found in kindness and in appreciating the world God created, whichever God you believe that is.

God says to trust Him with my life. I am trying. Sometimes it’s hard to not see the future.