Taiwan: Touch Your....

Today an old woman walked up to me as I was waiting for the bus to work.  She said something to me in Taiwanese, and I looked at her quizically.  Then she reached out and touched my chest, one breast at a time.

Then she laughed, got on the next bus, and rode away.

Ride On, Ride On

I had my first truly Taiwanese bus ride today--a ride worthy of my mother's stories riding to school in a tightly packed vehicle. Today the bus that brought me home from school was so crammed with people that a kid actually fell out of the car when the door folded open to let me on.

Eye Spy

On my daily commute, I see:

1. Pimple-faced teens in day-glow tracksuits congregate in every available space on the subway, frantically cramming before a long day at school.



2. The man across from me looks miserable. He probably works for China Steel and is therefore overworked and underpaid.



3. When I grow bored of looking at everyone else, I look at my backpack. It is orange but turning gray around the seams where all the dust gathers.



4. Sometimes I think that people avoid looking at me because I am also dirty all the time. This feels like proof:


Now that I take the bus in the mornings, though, things are different. The seats keep everyone looking forward so no one sees anything but the road ahead and the back of whoever sits in front of them. No chance of eye contact, no chance to feel shunned. The interior of the bus is old and, like me, coated in a fine layer of dirt. My self-esteem has skyrocketed since I made the switch.