Well, I had all but abandoned this, but evidently people do still stumble across it, so I guess it doesn't hurt to update it now and then.
It has been a long time since I wrote a personal article, my writings have mostly been increasingly on my political blog. But indeed, much has happened since I last wrote in here. It's been almost exactly a year now, at that time I was in Taiwan, roughly 4 months in, I guess.
The following 8 months were amazing, but that story has been told, in both words and pictures, elsewhere. Suffice to say, it was a life-changing experience, and Taiwan become more like home to me than I could have imagined. My heart is still there, and there are weeks when I miss it every day. My friends, the ministry, English classes, my own Chinese classes, summer camp, (food!), the city, the mountains, the way the sky looked, even just the working out of day to day life there, all of those things resonate so strongly in my mind that occasionally it's as if I expect to open my eyes and see not north Alabama but a Taipei city street.
And yet I am not there, but here. And if I am ever to live there again, it will be through moving forward, not looking back. Seminary lies across my path, as well it should, and I am excited about that prospect. And it will be so much more meaningful learning lessons when I can look ahead and see how they will help me on the field. The thought of taking the Bible directly from Greek and Hebrew to Chinese without having to go through English is an exhilarating one.
I was told by someone on the field, if I'm not careful, travel could become a life-long occupation.
Evidently the fact that I had a money drawer in my Taipei apartment containing small reserves of currency from the surrounding countries was a sign that I was already a hopeless case.
Another sign might be that when I walk into an international airport, I nearly get tingly with the possibilities stretching out before me. Sure, I could continue to my intended destination. But where else could I go? Almost anywhere. Europe beckons tantalizingly, with its staggering cultural diversity, beautiful locales, and the history of western civilization, just for starters. East Asia is a more familiar target, yet still a largely unknown one. The islands of Japan wonder why I have not yet managed to find them, and Korea lies beyond. All of Africa is still for me, as for ancient explorers, the dark continent, and other than a brief foray in Mexico City, Latin America and everything South of the Border waits impatiently.
Steppe, Desert, Rainforest, Tundra... the staggering scope, complexity and beauty still remaining in a long-fallen world indeed leaves man "without excuse". I sometimes think that these Atheists who so boldly, arrogantly and foolishly declare that they have theorized God into nonexistence can never have really stopped and simply watched a sunrise or sunset; I can never witness one without being reminded of the majesty that established a natural world in which this kind of beauty is integral. The delicately balanced function that places our earth among the stars in just such a way to sustain life has also matchless form, form that reflects the Glory of Him who established it.
All this world to see, and yet... if I was presented with a ticket to anywhere, and enough money to stay there a while, I am not sure that I wouldn't go to a place that has stayed with me since the one time I have been there. One day, to celebrate the birthday of a wonderfully interesting lady from South Africa who had a unique ministry in Taipei city, we took a train down the mountainous Taiwanese east coast. There the forested mountains fall away in sea cliffs to the Pacific, leaving in some places only perilous ledges for transportation. The train winds along the coast away from the Taipei metropolis, out through little seaside villages. Finally we arrived at a particularly small one, disembarked into the tiny station, and struck out for the beach.
This is not a Florida beach, by any means. Few beaches in Taiwan, except at the southernmost tip, can boast perfect white sand, or smooth spotless banks. They tend to be brown and cluttered, sometimes polluted.
But this beach is a little different. Some clutter is there until you get closer to the water's edge, including an oddly high number of dead pufferfish laying about, but the sand is soft and black.
The black sand doesn't obscure the water like light sand does, and you can see straight to the bottom. Unlike the sheer mountainsides directly across the traintracks from us, the sand's slope is gradual, and we waded a good ways out. The day had been bright and hot earlier, followed by a rainstorm, but now the sky was overcast, and the tops of the green mountains were shrouded in mist. These days you can usually find at least a few students at any prominent beach, often hundreds of them. Other beaches are more locally known, and have a smaller, more dedicated attendance. Today was no exception, though the cloudy weather had reduced turn-out. There were even a few optimistic college students in wetsuits, trying to ride the small waves on their surf boards. Foreigners seemed to be in low attendance, however. I can recall that there might have been one other foreigner there, otherwise it was just us.
We then floated in the calm sea of that evening, listening to the waves and watching the mist move around the mountain tops that towered above us. If you offered me the chance, I can't promise that's not the first place I'd go.
Later we retired underneath a nearby large concrete military shore emplacement, long since abandoned and covered in Chinese graffiti, and used wooden debris that had collected inside to build a fire. (One guy, who had grown up in a village in Indonesia where his parents were missionaries, used a section of bamboo as a bellows to get the fire going) We boiled some water to make tea, and ate some of the snacks we had brought. A little bread truck playing music pulled up on the small lane behind the bunker, and we bought some sandwiches from it. The evening passed slowly and enjoyably. Finally, as I had to be at church in the morning, I and another guy in a similar situation took our leave, as rain began to pour. We hiked back to the train station, getting soaked in the process, and using our limited Chinese to explain to a couple who had taken refuge from the deluge in a small shrine that we did not, unfortunately, know of any place nearby where umbrellas could be purchased.
Upon reaching the station, we waited for the train a good bit. I was exhausted after a very long day, all that I am telling here was just the latter portion of it. This was the second beach we had been to, the previous one was more well-known, with golden sand. We made a trip up to the 7-11 to buy various things (cold noodles, dried fruit, cookies) which we combined into a decent lunch.
We also explored the nearby town, finding some interesting shops. But perhaps all that can be told another time. Coming back to this portion of the story, eventually the train did arrive, and we boarded. My sandals had caused some serious damage to my feet at this point, but I was too satisfied to care much. We did not, however, go back the entire way by train as we had come.
Instead, we went down the line a couple more stops, getting off at a somewhat more prominent town that had a bus line that ran back to Taipei. Though this was the first time for both of us, we successfully located the bus station, and before long were resting on the bus, on our way back to Taipei.
That was a good day, one that I will remember for a long time.
Will I ever get back there? He knows, and I trust Him.
My plans would never have led me to that place, or the many others I came to know and love.
It is only as a result of His plan for me that I forsook my career and ventured out, and now I cannot conceive of my life without the experiences that followed.
How then can I fail to believe that His ways are superior to mine?
I cannot. And so I press forward.
-Joseph
