Touching Strangers in Douliou

Three things you are never far from on this island of Taiwan are; a beach to rock your bikini on, an English Buxiban, and a Zhongshan Road. We must get more serious here and return to this office with a plastic stool outside of it. Others may call this office a box; as it is not much more than a square wall with random blue and yellow Chinese characters littered across the top left wall. Nobody could possibly read those beautifully-written yellow and blue Chinese characters regardless of language ability. This is because of the characters' proximity of being safely out of sight all people with the sight of an ordinary human being. 

    Amidst the call for the next set of passengers to board the train, the fellow I have never met before begins to grope and fondle my upper back and shoulder areas. A memory lashes in my head from the last time another man contorted my body with my permission. This complete stranger luckily has decided not to make small talk as he works me over today. It gives me time to give myself a Pat on The Back for not being nearly as fearful as I was fifteen years ago the last time I paid a small fee to have another man touch me. As he chops, rubs, massages, and toils away, I continue to daydream about what a good person I am for supporting the medical stand ran from a box, with nothing more than one extra plastic stool to show for its profits. I remember the beautiful Filipino worker I saw snap a selfie on the stairs of the train station less than ten minutes ago. I am also certain that there are more Filipino women happily taking selfies somewhere out on a Zhongshan Road all over Taiwan as I sit with my eyes closed. I continue to daydream about the fact that the Lord knows no more resilient spirit than the overseas Filipino workers. They work eighty hour weeks for little or no money, and still have the energy to be excited about everyday tasks. Bravo!

He grabs his cell phone like a man with a set of two good eyes once the relaxing music ceases. I graciously pay him the fee noted on the sign. I could have paid him one thousand dollars or one hundred dollars. He could not know the difference. We part ways, no longer strangers. One blind massage therapist, and one foreign customer at a train station in Douliou, Taiwan.

These massage stands maintained by the sight-impaired people operate in many different train stations on this Island. I highly suggest you go support them!