February 24, 2011

       At the beginning of our winter break, I planned to go back to Nanto to visit my families. For ten years, I had dreamt of going back to the place where I was born--a place where I called home in the mountains. This trip proved that I was right about my longing nostalgia for returning to Taiwan after years of staying in Columbia, SC, U.S.A.

      What does it mean when we use the term "home"? Is it a place where we go back to sleep? Is it a so-called "residence"? Is it a place where we can remember those days we spent with our beloved ones with whom we shared time and memories together?

      The refreshing two-day Chinese New Year Celebration trip back to the ancestor's lodging location brought me an innovative way of seeing old people, decaying piles of woods, and shabby roof tops. I crawl into the small cave where I used to play Peek-a-boo with my cousins and brothers. I saw frogs and lizards moving along the passersby trail while wild grass being touched by the afternoon breeze. Walking along the side way of those traditional houses in the small village, I heard my cousin's mother humming folk songs that reminded me of those days when we sat around in the middle hall, singing Japanese lullaby. Those were good old days' memories that my ancestor's house had triggered-- luxurious dreams for "home".

      Traveling makes us look back into the past, in anger or in delightful mood? Where have all the good old things gone? Althought not many precious thoughts can be renewed, there had been countless times during the winter break, full of grateful thoughts, I was on the verge of becoming another person while wandering along the ladder of memory. Even though time had gone by much rapidly than I could ever imagine, I still felt all the energy and imageries flapping the bottom of my spirit--gentle sweet-and-sour moments.

      This will be another year full of challenges and cheers. The spring has arrived....