More Buses Near The Storytree

Photo by Wayne SQ Girard.

One time I was coming home from school. I didn’t notice that I got onto the wrong bus. This bus brought me into the middle of the city. I didn’t know what to do and got off almost at the end of the line. I managed to figure out where I was. I don’t really know how I did this.

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A Bus Nearing The Storytree

Photo by Snatched.

I used to take the bus in France when I was younger. I must have been about 8 when I started taking public transportation to my international school in Strasbourg. I wasn’t the only child on the bus.

I remember once that a bum got onto the bus. In France at the time, you had to punch your ticket yourself. Controllers would patrol the buses to inspect your tickets. Kind of like a train. The bum was told by anther passenger that he needed to punch his ticket. The bum happily took out a piece of paper and punched it. He smiled happily when he left the bus. I found that funny.

Oak Eucalyptus Blossoms Next To The Storytree

On my way to the Tian Tan Buddha (天壇大佛) in Hong Kong, I met a couple of Australians.

I was using my camera to take pictures of the ascent. The older couple admired my camera. I told them that it took great pictures. The husband told me of this problems with cameras. They forgot their camera in the hotel and had to use a disposable film camera. He wasn’t too happy about it, but he took it well.

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A Kimchi Vat Next To The Storytree

I was meeting someone at the Guting MRT (古亭路) to pick up some backpacks a few weeks ago.

It was funny, because I had four bags with me that day. In the end, it looked like I only had two, because the other two were stuffed inside the other ones.

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A Heavy Trunk On The Storytree


A few months ago I met Christian, the only Quebecer I have met in Taiwan. I relish talking French at every opportunity that is presented to me. On top of that, we have a common background, even if we do not look anything alike. I wouldn’t be surprised if we knew the same people in Quebec.

We talked in French. He told me about his work. He teaches 6 hours a day, ever day and is paid hourly. He says that hourly pay is the only way to go. Christian plays with some friends in a touch football league. He is quite muscled and loves the sport.

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A Lost Root In The Storytree

In the end, we are just stories, stories in our own storytree. At the end of our days, our stories will live on.

That is what remains of us when we are gone, the greatest of us will be talked and told over and over again. The weakest of us will be lost before we are gone.

There is this woman I know.

She is very nice and decent, and is a good teacher. However, she has one failing fault, she lets everybody take advantage of her. She is a good person, but people walk all over her, especially the Taiwanese. She has already been moved from one school to another because she hadn’t yet been certified. In this process, she lost her security deposit. She left her boyfriend and came to a new school and was given one of the hardest jobs, teaching 1st grade.

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A Tangled Poisonous Vine On The Storytree

/* Editor’s note

Warning: some of the comments in this post contain profanity. Reader discretion is advised.


I have known this woman, called Laura since I have come to Taiwan last September.

At first I thought she was nice. When I met her, she looked nice and freshly tanned from her time in Thailand. She looked pretty. As time wore on, this young girl became an ugly old maid, with old maid underwear, with old maid short haircuts and a face covered in zits.

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