Tuesday, November 13, 2018

Green Island

by Jennifer Cox (writer), Anaheim, March 06, 2007


I climb onto the back of a scooter and putt my arms around a man I have known for less than twenty-four hours. Before I can give it a second thought, we speed off into the darkness. The wind blows against my face, but the numerous beers I had during dinner keep me warm. I am unafraid even though I am speeding around dark curves and being driven by someone I barely know. The sky is completely black. This is in strong opposition to the usual gray haze of the skies at home in LA. The visible stars in the sky are of a staggering number, and I almost can’t believe it.

I am on this trip with a group of people from all over the world; Canadians, Americans, South Africans, and even some native Taiwanese. We were leaving from the cabin where we were staying for the weekend. We had been drinking and singing Karaoke before we decided to, perhaps unwisely, make a trip to the hot springs.

Before that we had been at an open-air restaurant where we had eaten dinner. Throughout all of which both the food and the beer flowed continuously. Inside, the sound of laughter and drunken karaoke filled the night air. I had already been in Taiwan for a couple of days, but this was my first trip away from the cramped bustle of Taipei. I was on Green Island, a lush beautiful island that had once been home to a facility housing political prisoners.

As we continue on our trip, I look up and I am engulfed by the beauty of a truly dark sky. Upon arrival at our destination, we get off the scooter, join the rest of our party, and head toward the ocean. We step into the circular, cemented hot springs that are nestled amongst the crashing waves. The smell of sulfur mixes with the saltwater and tingles my nose. The words of those around me, some I can understand and others I can’t, blend together in a strange melody as the warmth of the water relaxes my body and mind. I lay my head back, close my eyes and concentrate on not falling asleep.

When I open my eyes and step out of the hot springs the chill of the night air runs a shiver up my spine. I wrap myself in a towel as quickly as possible. I climb back onto the scooter and head back towards what constitutes my home for the remainder of the weekend. I take a deep breath and look back towards the ocean. I try my hardest to make sure this is a picture I will never forget.

About the Writer

Jennifer Cox is a writer for BrooWaha. For more information, visit the writer's website.
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1 comments on Green Island

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By Betty Zou on March 07, 2007 at 01:53 am
Aw how cute! I'm glad the trip was so memorable and pleasant despite of your pussy leg wound from the burning it on the exhaust pipe!
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