The Second Home I’d Shared with My Grandfather

Finding that sense of familiarity, that place, where you’re most comfortable in, and you’d never been here before, well, that’s, weird, isn’t it???  Translated…

Since I could recall, I’d never set foot outside of Taiwan, only when my job required me to, I’d rode the waves for six hours, and set foot onto Dongying.

Because of this opportunity, I’d gotten the opportunities, to set foot on the northernmost territory of the country, and took advantage of this short time off, and followed the recommendations of the traveling websites, to try to trek on every single tourist attraction.  The island was located in the midst of the ocean, the scenes were, breathtakingly beautiful, but what I longed for the most was, the locals, it’d taken me back into my memories, and trapped me there.  And the reason why I’d felt like this had to do with my memories of my grandfather.

When the war with the Communist happened, my grandfather went with the Nationals to Taiwan, he’d spoken the Changle dialect (a local dialect of Fuzhou), and people knew where he was from.  Other than work as he’d come here that he’d needed to interact with people, he’d mostly stuck around his families, and spoken his original dialect, sometimes, he’d mixed it with Mandarin too.  And, although I couldn’t speak a word of his Changle dialect, I’d still loved sitting there, hearing him tell the stories of his former years, and, enjoying being bathed in the tongues.  To my grandfather, I, the young grandson, was probably his best audience, so, on the days I’m not in school, I’d gotten called to hear him tell the tales of his past.

After arriving to Dongying, as I’d heard that familiar tongue in Nanao, I was suddenly, frozen, then, I’d turned my head around, I saw someone who resembled my own grandfather.  It was an elderly man with hairs all white, we’d looked at one another, and acknowledged one another with smiles, and the memories I had shared with my grandfather, all came flooding back.  It’s, as if, he was contacting me in some forms, and seemingly, that I was, supposed to be transferred here, by some unforeseen power.  My eyes got wet, but, I’d felt elated on the inside.

Later, I’d learned, that the Changle dialect was a locally used language in Dongying, although it’s far from my origin, but this voice had, helped me find that long lost connection I’d once shared with my grandfather again.

So, this is on the search of your origins, your roots, and, you’d found that place called “home” for you, in this strange new town, because of the memories you shared with your grandfather