To the Love and Pain in Movement

Hi! This is Fiona. In the past three years, my friends and I had different journeys in different times and spaces where we met different you. The theme of journeys was romance--and love. However, until now, we have been going around the word love most of the time, vaguely touching its possible contour.

Thus, you might have probably seen us in the fish boats moored in Aodi as you looked down or chatted with my partners and me during the free time. You were grilling fish with your fisherfolks that come from different countries and telling us about your hometown as we stood by the pier. As you handed us the grilled fish in transparent plastic bags, you told us to come back next month during the full-moon time, when you bring the next fishing catch.

You might have probably taken us to the factory dormitory of your workplace and guided us to pass by the guard dogs during nighttime so that we could get to your place by the factory. There was a very low ceiling in the dwelling with clothes and objects hung everywhere. With joy, you told us that your employer had finally built a restroom next to it. I remember that the daylight lamp in the restroom was so white and bright at nighttime compared to your room’s – it was a bit disturbing for the eyes.

You might probably see us sitting on the floor in Tainan Train Station's prayer room and at the religious wedding of a couple that we attended together with other Indonesian companions. We might have been next to each other in the karaoke shop in the basement where you nodded your head and made a toast to us with your drink. You turned around and went onto the short pink stage where you sang a song in front of the crystal ball.

We might have talked about your hometown cuisine in the shelter near the rear station of Zhongli Railway Station. In fact, you laughed at me as I couldn’t pronounce the Indonesian trill sound. Later, when I went back to the shelter together with the artists, we organized a spiced chocolate workshop. The theme of the day was love. You and your colleagues made chocolate of different spices that metaphorized your love and emotions. After having a bite of the chocolate mixed with turmeric, garlic powder, and chili powder, you frowned and couldn't resist more bites as you wanted to feel that aromatic complexity. I knew that it was the only chance that we could see each other because probably next month, you will move to the next city or next factory as you were in the shelter because of labor issues. 

You met us on the street as we handed you a flower and asked you what love was. It was followed by a sudden quiet and then you talked about your kid in the Philippines. You said that your kid was the most important thing in your life right now, and then briefly pointed out the fact of your separation from your husband. "Love is sacrifice", you said. It reminded us of the sacrifices mentioned in the religious context. Your eyes were filled with sadness, but I could feel a solid element projected from your language. It was then that I realized the element was a sense of resilience. 

Every Sunday in Jinwanwan Building, you would see us walking around with the flowers. You were applying the dye on the client’s hair in the hairdressing shop and dancing to the music that we were playing. As we sang the part "I love you, baby!", the client with the curls, the hairdresser, and you, doing the same time, staying in the same place, would all sing it together! 

You gave us a plentiful box of the food that you were selling. Every week, you would prepare enough amount of flowers with beautiful colors in advance. You uploaded the selfies that we took after chatting for a while on the street to the Facebook Fanpage. You found our street interview a bit abrupt yet told us several of your stories. We always felt like we were visitors who mistakenly knocked on others’ doors; fortunately, we were well-received every single time. 

Love is complex. Love includes joy, warmth, and generosity, as well as defense, indulgence, sacrifices, selfishness, and suffering. Love drives you and me to move. Love urges exchanges, again and again. All the movements, exchanges, and encounters would lead us to a place that is almost the opposite of the expected results: we thought that we can depict the appearance of love, yet its contour got very blurry. However, because of what we all give, those people, things, and matters that appear with the word “love” have become more three-dimensional. This is you whom I met before, constructing a boundless universe for us. We learn to be humble, to comprehend each other, and to understand ourselves within this universe.

Once a stranger left a note for us: “Too much love will kill you.” I couldn't agree more. But we're still alive, and it is a journey that we would want to continue.

Thank all of you whom we met.

May we all live up to every true heart.