Eulianbi

Last weekend we went down to Eulianbi on the southernmost point of Taiwan. It's not too far from where we live, but it took three hours because of the twisty steep road through the mountains that come right down into to the ocean. It's amazing driving along where frequently we can see where the road was recently covered by a rock slide from above, or half the road has collapsed from below. It's an ongoing battle with nature, and the road always seems to lose. They were very busy keeping the road open and fortunately we were able to get all the way through.

Most of the beaches at Ulianbi are volcanic rock, not the most pleasant for walking, but incredible to see the waves crashing against where the lava has spilled into the ocean. Then there are some beautiful sand beaches from the crushed coral. We went out snorkeling (on our own this time, without all the gear, wetsuit, floatation device) and enjoyed the colorful fish and coral among the sand and volcanic rock. McKinley didn't like it when I would disappear to swim down to the bottom; I had forgotten how much harder it is to sink in salt water.

We spent the night at a campground near the beach, McKinley made friends with some Taiwanese kids. She's certainly not proficient in Chinese by any means, but its wonderful to see how she has learned to play and communicate enough with other children to have fun. She shared some sparklers with them and then they brought to us a bag of Lienu fruit (cone shaped, bright red on the outside, and white on the inside, sort of the texture and flavor of a pear). Then she gave them some chocolate marzipan that Anika had brought from Italy. And so they returned with a container of pickled Daikon. Finally we had to ask McKinley not to bring them anything more. We crawled in our tent to read some more of "Howle's Moving Castle" that we had been enjoying during the car ride.

The next morning we drove further along the coast. During the fall and winter, the strong winds off the ocean blow sand up on the cliffs, then in the spring and summer the heavy rains wash the sand down again to the beaches, which creates some beautiful patterns of sand and rock. These winds, which seemed to be particularly strong when we were there, also provided ideal conditions for people flying radar controlled gliders. So we enjoyed watching them dive and soar, until the wind drove us off.

The mountains are a result of volcanoes and the thrust of plate collisions as Taiwan is being heaved out of the ocean. We drove inland up a steep road, but all along the way were formations of coral, that somehow, not so long ago, were under the ocean I suppose. It's hard to imagine!

A bit further on there was an impressive array of satellite dishes, radar, etc. At first we couldn't figure out what this was all about, but then we saw the military uniforms, and . . . "Duh!" (we're right across from mainland China and remembering that the Taiwanese are keeping a careful eye on their big brother).

Southern most point of Taiwan

 

 

found egg

Nixon Rock

 

messages

beach yoga

footprints in the sand

 

Anika home, everyone happy

 

Joplin's southern record

 

McKinley Photographer

 

flames from the earth

 

roasting potatoes and eggs

 

Wild natural gas fires

 

Sideways Waves at the Southern Tip

 

The Tropics

We went to the southernmost tip of Taiwan, further south on the planet than Joplin or McKinley have ever been. To get further south for me, we'll have to go to New Zealand. That'll bottom-out us all!

The landscape transformed. It was subtle, and amazing. There are these craggy formations of crusty lava that poured over coral and froze, displaying the intricate beauty of the varieties of coral, in pockmarked frames of lava. Walking over this is challenging, but amazing.

Our campground was right under the beam of the lighthouse marking the southern tip. To make city-dwellers feel comfortable camping, they kindly leave bright lights shining all night long. We had to wrap our eyes to get some sleep. It was soft, grassy, and quiet, though, and windy! The waves there at the tip blew at an angle to the coast, both across and coming in, it was the weirdest phenomenon.

We decided to go snorkling on our own, with no expert to keep us safe. We rented masks, and headed out, no wetsuit, no boots, just ourselves. We got McKinley a life vest, just so we wouldn't worry about her energy level. But I must say, I worried about my own. I know how long I can tread water, and it isn't that incredibly long. I was quite concerned about being -- out there -- and being too tired to swim back. Like a total baby, I thought, well at least I can hold onto McKinley's life jacket if I have to!

But then we stepped off the coral reef and into the sea, and the magic of salt water happened. We float. (!) Effortlessly. We just lay there on the top of the water, stared into the turquoise depths, with coral caves and tunnels and bright fish, and white (turquoise) sand and didn't move at all. It felt like a miracle.

Then we took the plunge, Joplin and I. Jackknife, kick, and dive down under, blowing out air so that we could sink, and swim there, among the fish. You have to remember to save a bit of breath to blow the water out of the snorkel, I learned. It was so, so amazing.

McKinley spent most of the time being terrified, then cold. She really didn't trust us to know enough to keep her safe. She kept thinking about us dying out there. The life she leads inside her head is too dramatic for any novel.

daughters

Having Anika home was such a relief. It really felt as if there was a part of my heart that was ripped out, and stuck in Italy. When she arrived in the airport in Taipei, the piece stuck back in. The wonderful thing is that now it is still there, intact, even though she has gone back.

We were invited to sing in the Messiah, a huge performance, and Anika got to play in the orchestra -- it took a bit of fancy sightreading, with only a couple rehearsals before the performance, but she pulled it off. It's hard when anyone can see if your bow is going the wrong direction!

She sounds so at home at UWC. It is a new identity, and it suits her well. All her friends are wild and amazingly talented and fun. She is so articulate on her blog, that it gives us a peep-hole into her life. (voyageofchange.blogspot.com)

McKinley has been tortured by emotion -- the child does not do this moderately. She was in uberbliss to have her sister home, but daily also dreaded her departure. She slept snuggled with Anika each night. For ten days, Tomoko was here too, doubling her happiness. We knew that when Anika left, it would be rough for McKinley -- it was a month of active grief last time. Finally I found a metaphor that was simple and accurate enough to work -- it hurts like a deep cut when your sister leaves. If you put on a bandaid and let your body heal the cut, it will stop hurting terribly. But if you leave it open, and keep sticking your finger in the cut, it will continue to bleed and hurt for a long time. Maybe it was this thought, or that it was the second time, and easier, or that she is four months more mature, or the wonderful distraction trip we took this weekend... or all, but McKinley has transformed, and is more light-hearted today than ever. What a joy.

rice planting

 

Christmas morning

hot danish croissants
Anika, Tomoko
Santa came here first
and his reindeer nosed open
the su-jiya fruit for him.
Books to read
such books, such riches
a box from California
with apricot jam and
pasta
a bag from Vermont
with yoga,
friendship
and a branch of
evergreen