The rainy season in Taiwan

June 25, 2012

Here in Pingtung there are essentially two seasons, the hot season and the hotter season.  During the hot season we have temperatures very near those in North Carolina summer.  The hotter season is closer to summer in Miami.  It is so humid and damp and sticky that you spend your entire day from the time you get out of the shower in the morning, until the time you go to bed in a state of soggy, damp, stickiness.

This level of humidity also brings many tropical storms, typhoons, monsoons, and afternoon downpours.  That was the case the first 9 days I was here.  The day we arrived last August it started raining, buckets and buckets, of rain, and it continued FOREVER.  All we did was just sit in the apartment and watch it rain wondering what in the world this year would be like.  Well, it is now the rainy season again, and although I had forgotten how long and slow those days were, I was reminded this week.  It has been raining for days on end.  The plus side is that it gave me time to write the following poem, so I hope you all enjoy.

As the rain gently taps

   On the roof o'er my head,

My mind wanders farther

     Away from this land.

The life I am living

     Like a dream while sleep

Seems so far and so distant

     From the life that you lead.

The storm pounding down

     On this old window pain,

Brings reflections right back.

     They wash in like this rain.

Maybe it is sunny.

     I hope you are warm.

Maybe your holding,

     To me in your heart.

The rain leads me back.

     It washes me home.

Like a song from the past,

     The memories come.

So when the sun returns

     And when hot are the days,

I will come back again

     For a brief moments stay.

I will be here in Taiwan only a short few weeks longer.  I am very anxious to see everyone back home, but my home here will be truly, deeply missed.  

Go Where Life Takes You, Even to the Ends of the World!

Feb 5, 2010

We finally arrived in Ushuaia (the world's southernmost city) very late Thursday night, found a hostel, and got some much needed sleep.  The last hour of the ride was a fantastic experience.  I wish it had been during the day because the desert carefully merged with ocean, and as we meandered around the lonely roads suggenly vegetation began to appear and in just a few moments our bus was climbing the amazing ridgeline of the Southern Andes.  We were passing high elevation lakes, and pristine forestests.  I peered with my face pressed against the glass for intervals when the full moon would shine down between the clouds to reveal the exquisite creation all around me.

We made it into the town of Ushuaia very late and with slight difficulty made it to a hostel and were able to get some sleep.  Awaking the next morning in high hopes we anxiously explored our little town.  It was actually a bit touristy for my taste with Gore-Tex and Northface lining every street.  Boasting as the southernmost city in the world is quit impressive, and when combined with a few great national parks, make this would be sleepy and dreadfully cold town into a bustling city during the summer months (i.e. Dec.-Mar. in the Southern Hemishpere).

Being in the middle of summer, Austin and I decided to spend a couple days in Tierra del Fuego, the Land of Fire.  It so named because as European merchants sailed around Cape Horne, the would see small fires burning all along the coastline.  These of course were started by aboriginals keeping themselves warm in during the long, cold winters.

We spent the first night at a quiet campsite and enjoyed some time to ourselves just visiting.  After hiking all day we spent our 2nd night in a more populated campsite where we came across some Argentinians and one German hitchiker.  They speak Spanish so communication is limited.  I confess I was a bit worried that if we slept to soundly may awaken to find things missing.  I was careful to sleep lightly and ensure any valuables were on my person.

I was caught using my axe to secure firewood and the park ranger took it away.  I tried to convince him I was only cutting already fallen logs, but to no avail.  He did promise however, to give it back the following day as I left the park.  It was not a tragedy, because we were planning to leave the next day, I just wish I had been able to cut more pieces before having to turn over my tool.

The German seemed quit content to just float through South America, on whatever means possible.  He made jewelry out of copper and with his very meager proceeds invested in whatever food he could afford.  He slept under a piece of tarp tied to two trees and then to a stake on other, the entire dwelling was a small V-shaped covering which he contentedly called home.  The whole group generously offered to share a bowl of beans they were making on the fire, and we were able to give them a bit of our food, though we did not have much.

They were a pleasant band, and fortunately my suspicions were false.  Too my knowledge the only things we shared were stories, songs, and a very poor dinner.  They never tried to take advantage of us.  So the next day we procurred a bus and were our way back to town.

A Step of Faith

Feb 3, 2011

We continued travelling South, not really sure what to expect, but as we continued southward what we recieved was the desert.  Long hot days, and nights that were cold.  A dry, lonely cold that sinks down to the bones, and makes one's lungs feel alive.  The trees were swept and baren, the grass sparse and clustered as if hoping to huddle together to keep other blades warm.  No ice in this desert, but as we left Rio Gallagos it began dusting snow.

"The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." Ancient Chinese proverb.

So true are these words, whether one sets out to trek the world or just to cross the street and invite the neighbors to church, it must begin somewhere.  It must begin with a step, a leap of faith.  To trust the Holy Spirit for words, to stand up to your boss, maybe even to quit your job,  the fact remains the constant, the first step is ALWAYS the most difficult.  Until we as a nation, or as a united brotherhood of international believers, are willing to take that first step our journey will never begin.

What is your step?  What has Christ convicted you to do but you are so worried about the end result that you fail to just take that first step?  I am inclined to believe that God never asks people to climb mountains, He simply asks them to step up to the base camp.  Then he asks us to grasp that first hold!  I believe He only then asks us to put our foot up on the first ledge and inch by onch and step by step He guides us up the rock face.

Did you ever go mountain climbing, how easy it is to reach the summit with an experienced guide standing below saying, "Now reach up with your left hand, ok put your foot in that crack."

We can't be scared to step up to the base.  What if Abraham had been to scared to take a step outside his home?   NOTHING!  The first step is difficult in my opinion because it is very clear.  We do not know the outcome but we know the step.  The 8th, 9th, 1,000th, they are unclear.  Maybe we aren't sure exactly where to go, but we always seem to know the right direction and are just too scared to take the 1st.

We understand that it is the first step that shakes things up.  That first step is the one that makes people angry, makes people laugh at you, maybe we won't be able to max out our IRA's this year.  We can always hear that first step though!  We hear it loud and clear...or is it clear...I'm not sure...maybe it's just the wind...do you hear anything...oh guess it was nothing.  No it is very clear, we choose to ignore it.

The world has bigger problems than our retirement plans, and you and I have a much higher calling.  God has a greater purpose if we only trust Him.  You will never climb a mountain, or go anywhere, or be remembered if you are too afraid to take that first step.  The step of faith.

So we are always of good courage.  We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord.  For we walk by faith, not by sight.  II Corinthians 5:6-7

South Bound!

Febuary 1st, 2011
I realize that it may not exactly be Magellan, but somehow taking that bus southward was one of the most exciting experiences of my life, and a bus ride all the way from Buenos Aires to Ushuia is no picnic.  The hot summer days and the warm tropical nights full of Tango and lavish dinning in Buenos Aires were mile by lonely mile forgotten and the replaced by the barren desert plains of central Argentina.

I awoke suddenly after catching a few hours of sleep.  I checked my watch: 4:00 a.m, from my bus window I observed one of the most spectacular stellar performances I have ever seen.  The constellations were out in full strength, no artificial lights for miles.  Orian, the southern cross, Jupiter, and even some distant gallexies I had never seen, were all there right in front of me.  As I gazed in astonishment several stars even fell from there loft heights and vanished in the darkness.

After a whole day of riding on this dusty road, things were taking a turn for the worst.  I was wired and tired.  Finally night came, but to my disappointment tonight brought no stars, no sleep.  In addition the Argentinian girl who was not only a cutie, was helping me practice spanish had reached her stop and had been replaced my a heavy-set elderly lady.  It could be worse I have been stuck with smelly people, so I am very thankful she smells of wonderful grandma things.

52 hours on the Inside

May 30th, 2012
Last week I had the priveledge of spending 52 hours on the Inside.  No not the inside of a prison cell, the inside of the terminal--which I would like to point out is a very scary thought.  I mean do they really have to call the embarking point and final destination of an airplane "terminal".  But that is a topic for another day.

My journey began 4:00 a.m. standard eastern time (SET).  I will keep the time in (SET) so that no one is confused as time was changing at every terminal.  I woke up quickly dressed and ate breakfast, threw the last of my things in my pack, grabbed a snack for my friend Barra Eduardo (who is from Brasil, but was travelling to Miami the same day), and my sister who was going to drive the car home after we left.

Finally, our journey was under way.  As we approached CLT I received a call from my EXTREMELY helpful Delta contact who so generously had allowed me to fly standby at a drastically discounted rate--thanks again Mrs. Steeb :)!  She informed me that it may be best to try to make it too Tokyo out of Detroit as opposed to NYC which had been the plan.
"When does the plane leave for Detroit?" I inquired.
"6:00, can you make it?"  came the response.
"I can try."
When we arrived it was already 5:30, the line through security was very long and getting longer by the minute, and I hadn't checked in yet.  "No problem, I thought these things have a fantastic way of working themselves out" I thought to myself in my usual care-free attitude.  Just as I was being handed my ticket, the opportunity that I had been anxiously observing for suddenly presented itself.

For some unknown reason security in the employee line stepped away from his post just before I had positioned myself in the common line, and I walked right up to the front and present my passport.  5:45a.m. (SET) boarding for Detroit had begun long ago, and unfortunately the gate was on the opposite end of the airport.  No worries I thought as I began sprinting through the airport shoes in my hands, belt in my mouth and all the other random articles that have to be removed from luggage or taken off to go through security dangling, spilling, or just bouncing along with me.

5:50 (SET) I reached the gate and presented my ticket.  They had not yet closed the door and I was allowed to board.  Everything was going to be OK...or so I thought.

7:30a.m. (SET) I arrived in Detroit, I found my gate and began to wait.  My plane would depart very soon, just a short 8 hour wait until 3:30 p.m. (SET).  Seriously, if anyone read my last post, the only reason it was written was because I was sleep deprived and had 8 hours with nothing else to do!

3:30 came but to my surprise I did not make it on the flight.  This was actually the very first time this had happened to me.  Typically, it comes right down to the wire and flight attendants are suckers for a boyish smile, curly hair, and big blue eyes.  Not today however, there were at least 7 or 8 others standing there and my name was not at the top of the list.  This would be a challenge requiring eyes much much bluer than mine.

I began the process of creating a new plan, again with the help of Mrs. Steeb and very helpful Delta employees, we decided that waiting until the next day's flight out of Detroit seemed to be the most practical option with over 20 seats currently available.  So I spent the remander of the evening in the "terminal" (seriously, doesn't that just sound like a horror film).


As the sun sank, I managed to sleep nearly six hours, and upon waking up, at 5:30 am and cleaning up as best I could, had breakfast.  While eating I decided it would be in my best interest to check on the status of my afternoon flight, so I quickly paid and returned to the Delta counter.  My flight now had only 5 remaining seats and it was only 8:15 am (SET).  After looking at all other possibilities, I was informed that a flight out of Seattle, WA had 70 available seats!
"How can I get to Seattle?" I anxiously inquired.
"Well, we have one flight to Seattle.  It's at 9:00am (SET), but there are no available seats."
"Print my ticket, if I don't make it I will come back!" I said, just moments before beginning my sprint across the Detroit airport.

I arrived at my gate in plenty of time as people were still filing onto the plane.  I waited.  The entire stanby list was one by one allowed to board.  There I was, my name was moving from standby to cleared.  I just stared at my lonely name on the board expecting it to move, but it didn't.  It was time to reach deep into my arsenal and take matters into my own hands.

I quickly put on my puppy face, practiced my smile, and strategically placed a little lock of curly brown hair in clear view.  I was going in!

"Am I going to make it?" I asked, while performing a traditional hold my breath and smile sheepishly grin. (classic).

"Let me check." was the plain professional response.  But we knew where this was going.

"I can stand in the bathroom." I smilingly suggested.

"We have available seating, but it is now a weight issue."  --Oh she was good.

"Oh!" I said almost as if she had offended me by claiming there would be a weight issue if I boarded, "I guess it's a good thing I only weigh 140." I offered confidently.

"We are going to have to weigh the airplane." Still stern.

"What if I suck it in, and hold my breath the duration of the flight" I suggested as I stood as straight and thin as I possibly could.  Now one slightly extended look with the big blues and ...wait...maybe...Yes! She couldn't resist any longer, now she was smirking.

She regained a stern look of professionalism, "Just one moment."

Then she saw my backpack--UH-OH.  This could ruin my masterpiece, she looked and me and said, "You're going to have to check that. They will take it as you board." as she sighed.

Yes! I was on my way to Seattle, slowly but surely I was making my way west toward the far east.  The rest of my flights went relatively smoothly.  In Seattle I not only was assigned a seat, I was bumped to first class.  In Tokyo, they wanted to see a departure itenerary, but my leaders worked quickly to get my return flight to my email.  I was concerned at first since I had only 1:30 until boarding, but they were very diligent and within 45 min. I had my itenerary which I was able to show them and again get upgraded to first class seating.  I finally, arrived in Taipei (a six hour bus ride away from my home) at 10:00 am standard eastern time exactly 52 hours after I had initially flown out of Charlotte.

Here it was actually 10:00 p.m. so I had to spend another night between the capital city and my home, but that was no problem.  I was just happy to finally be HOME!

Thanks again Mrs. Steeb and Delta Airlines!