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You must forgive me for writing this in English, for I know not how to put my feelings into Chinese characters in such a way that would precisely portray how I am feeling right now.
Doughnut and Latte at Mister Donut
Having a dream is what makes life meaningful. Yet, when that dream takes too long to fulfill, it often deteriorates into oblivion. When it is on the verge of becoming an actuality, it takes even more courage to accept the fact that it has come true as opposed to accepting the failure of realizing it. The longer the process takes, the deeper the impact your dream will have on you.
Sometimes during the process, you may encounter those who either discourage you from making it happen, or those who do not believe you will ever withstand the test of time or overcome the obstacles that you will have to face along the way. Fortunately, there will also be those who believe, support, and assist you.
Having gone through this entire process of formulating the dream to planning to make it happen, I find myself on the very verge of embracing this ten-year dream of going to England. The feeling is indescribable. It is exciting. It is nerve-wrecking. Sometimes it is neither. Yet, other times it is both.
Today, I have completed the process of my visa application. After this, the only thing that is left for me to do would be for me to 'fly' towards my destination. The application process went rather smoothly. It was quite surprising, considering the fact that England had once been a target of terrorist attack, they would have to be extremely prudent in scrutnizing the background of every single individual that is to enter their country. As I am a decent citizen of the world, and had always been, I have no doubt my visa should be easily granted.
After leaving my prints in their database, I bought myself a doughnut and a cup of latte as a celebration of completing this final process. As I left for work an hour later, I suddenly realized that in less than two-months, I will finally be leaving this godforsaken place.
Taiwan. It's my home. It was once a place that seemed so estranged to me. I remember coming back during summer breaks as a teenager, fearing to go anywhere without someone accompanying me. I would frequently be lost and had to call for help. I would not know where to go, where to eat, and how to get to places. I feared the buses. I feared the streets. I feared even going down stairs to a nearby store to buy a drink. Everything seemed to be such a big deal. I knew so little about the place, and yet it was my home. I defended it by standing up against my economics teacher who made a comment about our fist-fighting congress meetings. I spread its reputation by showing off my writing utensils and other stationeries that could only be bought in Taiwan. I missed Taiwan, without really knowing the place.
When I returned for college, I discovered that our congress meetings continued their fist-fighting fiascos. Nonetheless, I enjoyed my time here because I made many new friends and had my share of 'fun'. Life was good. Taiwan was good. It was after I began working that I began to adopt negative feelings about my own home. I respected my job. It was a respectable one. Yet not all deemed it so. Parents wanted me to compromise my unique techniques of teaching because their children's school grades had made no progress, while failing to acknowledge the fact that they had finally learned to read, spell, and speak a little English. My superiors acknowledge my skills, but refuse to pay me higher wages because I hold no passport from an English speaking nation. Children would discard my comments on grammar or other related matters simply because their school teacher had stated otherwise, even the ones that knew and believed that my ability is above their school teacher's did the same.
On top of that, my country, whom I had loved unconditionally after all these years, denied me a loan to finance my academic pursuit simply because I had not completed high school here. This was despite the fact that my father had worked for the government for three solid decades. Soon, I got sick of all the denials that my country had rewarded me and became desperate to leave.
Now, standing where I am, I look around and suddenly realize how much I had loved, still love, and always will love this godforsaken place. I love how it gets so hot that your brain freezes when you walk into an air-conditioned facility. I love how people trample on you and then stare at you as if YOU had done something wrong. I love how everyone knows that night market food is one the the world's most disgusting and unhealthy foods, but can never resist the temptation. I love how taxi drivers drive without the slightest respect to other vehicles or pedestrians, and I certainly love the way they decorate the streets with traffic lights. I also love the fact that Christmas music can be heard all year round. You may think I am being sarcastic, and you may have been right if I had said this a couple months back.
I walked to the MRT with tears intermingled with joy and sadness. All of the things that I loved and hated, all the things that I had been taking for granted, will have to be left behind. Taiwan is so capable of change that within a year, it could become a complete stranger to me. This is what makes it so hard to let go.
I do not know where the future will lead me. I do not know whether I will choose to live here again. I do not know what will become of Taiwan. What I do know, is that you only come to cherish something, even things that you think you loath, when you are about to let it go.
Thank goodness I realized it now, before it is all too late. During the remainder of my time here before I take off, I will come to love it like I have never loved it before. I will then pack that love away and secure it in the depth of my heart as to preserve it forever.
It will always be with me, no matter where I am. Whether in Liverpool, Chiang Mai, or anywhere else in this universe, it will always be - HOME.
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