Remote

by Weichuen You 2000

I sank into a fit of blues during my days in Rochester, NY. One year before I was a young girl full of ambitions and dreams, but the difficult life of a foreign student wore me out mentally and physically. There were always tons of books to read, cold and snowy days seemed endless, and I was never in a satisfactory relationship. I was so far from my original expectations. I was far from where I had come from. Worse, the future goal was equally remote. I was in the middle of nowhere.

On a gray May morning, the drizzling rain triggered off my nostalgia. Somehow the snapshots of my childhood came back to me. I thought of something that had been buried deep in my memories. My grandma and I watched the traditional Taiwanese opera together when I was a little kid. I had never liked the noise and the dazzling colors of the shows. Yet every remote detail came back and it was so pleasant. I could feel the air, the passion of the audience, even the hot and humid air in summer. In a way I crossed the boundary of time and space. I felt so warmly wrapped inside while my body still remained in Rochester. Then I realized that maybe what I considered remote wasn't that faraway...