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Published: September 4th 2007
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Beautiful River in Butterfly Valley
There is a high suspension bridge at the end of the trail. It is well worth the hike, because from there you can see the East Rift Valley far below. I enjoyed a wonderful long weekend. Friday I had lunch with my foreigner colleagues at the "Enigma" again, but I left early because rain was threatening and it was getting late. I can do rain, and I can do dark, but the two together are a misery. It's a pity—there were beach barbecues happening at the waterfront at Hualien Port. I keep thinking that there is a lot of time to do all the neat things I want to do; yet time just flies by here.
On Saturday, the highlight of my day was to get a haircut. The standard price seems to be about NTD 300 -eight dollars or so. I could hardly keep from laughing when the lao-ban started my haircut by dousing my head with baby powder. At first I thought he was delousing me. The thought occurred to me, "God love us. It's been over fifty-five years since anyone put baby powder on me." I now look as if I have been drafted into the Marines—but the Chinese Marines since the lao- ban left on a little tuft one each side, à la Mao.
About fifteen minutes south of town is a place called the
Wild Flowers Abound...
...in the Garden of Eden in the Far East. Butterfly Valley Resort. That's where I went today—in other words that is where Esmerelda serendipitously led me.
I have been scouting out nearby locations to take Lao-puo, and ended up at Butterfly Valley. The river running through the place is a bit like Little Qualicum, except it is turquoise. The boulders are a bit like those at Little Qualicum too, except that they are marble instead of granite. The forest is dissimilar, because it is sub-tropical (for a few more clicks south of here, anyway-until the Tropic of Cancer). There are vines and giant ferns and banyans and orchids growing on trees—and butterflies everywhere. It is quite the Garden of Eden. There is a glorious walk for about 2 km to a waterfall, and pools of various temperatures for a good soak afterwards. There is also a buffet lunch and dinner, including western stuff, for those hikers who wish to defeat the purpose of their exertions.
I braved the thumping heat. It is still October, yet sandals without socks and empire-builder khaki shorts and my aloha shirt are all that is needed—even on the bike. It is 28 degrees in my digs as I speak, but I do
My Beloved Little Esmerelda...
...has truly set me free--two-wheeled style. I have never owned a vehicle that I have enjoyed as much as my little motorbike. not feel overheated at all.
I set off on the hike to the waterfall upriver. It is well worth the effort. From the top, you can see the valley floor in the distance, the river far below, and the towering hills all around.
I really didn't want to venture too far afield on a holiday weekend—the traffic is a little bit much on the highway. At least if you spilled off a motorbike in the city it would be no worse than falling off a bicycle, but the consequences of a highway accident would be catastrophic.
When Lao-puo gets here we'll arrive at Butterfly Valley first thing in the morning, have our hike, then a soak in the hot springs, then a buffet lunch.
Dealing with the ATM machine in Guangfu is fun, because it's only in Chinese. At first I was annoyed, but then it occurred to me that I'm that only western person in town and for miles around—I can hardly expect the bank to lay on an English machine just because His Majesty is in town and wants to take out his money.
It's been a few days since I put pen
There is Always a Parking Spot...
...right in front of one's destination. to paper, or (more accurately) electron to screen. The nice five-day break is over, it's Saturday Oct 14. As I write, I'm at my desk in the teachers' workroom. The window glass is opaque, but they are all wide open. The typhoon shutters are open too, so I can see a soccer field, a hibiscus hedge concealing the concrete wall around the school and trees of which some are flowering. It's starting to cool down a bit, but I still have all the windows in the house wide open and I'm still in short sleeves.
It's hard to believe that I have already been here a few days over two months.
I've never taught school on a Saturday in my life before, and Christmas will be just another day here. Ours will be over when yours is just beginning, because of the time difference.
Hualien County gave every teacher a gift out of the blue, two little containers each holding a fork, spoon, and screw-together chopsticks. The gift box also had a flashlight. Not just any flashlight. It has an alarm that sounds like a police siren, but it's not loud enough to frighten a hamster. There is a compass, and a cell phone adapter so you can run your cell phone off the flashlight battery. It seems to me that the flashlight battery would give out first, but what do I know?
It has turned out to be the handiest little gadget for classroom knaves. If a kid is looking dopey, or not paying attention, or chewing gum, I approach from the blind side and set off the little siren. The kid jumps out of his skin, everyone laughs, and I continue without interrupting my train of thought.
All my students enjoy the cheerleading squads that I have organized. To start each class, I detail four kids at random (boys too) and they line up in front of the class. The first cheer they have learned already is a simple one:
Lean to the left, lean to the right.
Stand up, sit down.
Fight fight fight.
I get them to articulate clearly with great gusto, and to exaggerate the body movements. The rest of the class follows the commands of the cheerleaders. Barrring the odd smart-alec here and there who pretends to fall over while leaning and then gives me a smirk and a phoney-baloney apology, it runs smoothly.
It's hard to get mad at the smart-alecs—I feel like a hypocrite because that's exactly what I would have done at their age.
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