Train window. Scudding clouds and every color green you can imagine. High rises, then rice paddy, then farm land. Punctuated by moments of 180 mph blackness in tunnels. A slight hiss, louder in the tunnels. Little blue water melon trucks on shiny wet black asphalt. Pure white egrets, 100m high aquaducts for cars. Partially understood conversations, in a hushed tone. Temples, little handgrenades of color. Rushing flooding riverplains. Tin roofs, like asian Mexico. 200 mph now, into the storm. Crammed into the vestibule between carriages, with suitcases, skateboards, police and food carts. No seats available. Near vertical green jungle cliffs, 20 m from the window. Rice green vs 2 story ramshackle shed houses as far as the eye can see, then instantly black again for a tunnel. Pressure change. Slope change. Tiny little steep hills outside the window again.
I'm learning to squat when I'm waiting.
I still drink coffee instead of tea. I still want a little blue watermelon truck of my own, and I still don't miss home. I still think Taiwan must have been beautiful, long long ago, but years of rapey progress has made it hideous.
Inexplicable 40 story highrises in the middle of rice paddies. 200 miles of highrises, from Taipei to Taichung. This must be the only place in the world where rice farmers get their mail on the 38th floor.
Exit tunnel, then hard rain. Visibility 1 km. The clouds are closer than the horizon. Aquaculture lakes next to factory runoff next to rice paddy next to apartment block then plastic factory spewing poison. All in a blink, then new scenery.
Drum of rain drops sounds the same as 150 mph slower.
Nests of construction cranes. Blue tarp cacoons around the larval buildings. 1/10th of a second glimpse of a lit baseball stadium, then black tunnel.
A tiny junkyard, a sad, walled river.
More crane nests, bigger aquaculture ponds, with cappuccino foam on top. I already refuse to eat freshwater fish in Taiwan, now I can't stand the thought that I ever did. I am going to get cancer. Everyone here is going to get cancer.
Perceptible deceleration. Tiny green valleys of rainforest between tunnels. I wonder when the last time was that someone walked there.
Longest tunnel. I amuse myself by seeing how much of the safety signs I can read: fire extinguisher, mind the gap, exit tunnel and into banciao. Huge mountains in the distance. No rain, surprisingly clean air. As clear as we get in Taipei.
Rooftops only. Nothing green in sight. Cement, brick, rust, asphalt. Chimes warn of the next station. sterile english computer announcements, choppy mandarin ones, choppy taiwanese ones. Into the last tunnel. It's all tunnel from here to the house. But I'm not going there, I'm going to the bridge.
Epilogue: met a lot of friends for a horrendously hot bridge session, and a new Italian guy. One the way home, RMJ and I ran into four americans skating a rock. I gave one of them some wax, since it was his birthday. I have a migraine. I'm going to work tomorrow.
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