鞋子的旅程｜The Day

2021 年 12 月 4 日

繞了北半球一大圈，它們陪著我走天涯十多年，陪我至此，在抵達多倫多後，以為這裡就是它們的終點，然最終我還是穿著它們回到歐洲，在塞拉耶佛和它們告別。這篇剛好測試一下翻譯新功能（文章最末還是中文的）。

The taxi driver lets me out at the airport doors and helps me unload three huge pieces of luggage. The night is closing in on Taiwan, but where I am going it is just dawn. I don’t remember how many times I have departed from this airport by myself. Every time I feel as if I am leaving for the last time.

After the fasten seatbelt indicator turns off, I take off my faded blue shoes. Three hours ago, my mother tried to convince me to throw them out because the bottoms of the shoes were worn down.

“You can’t bring everything, you just can’t,” my mother said to me.

I pretended I didn’t hear her and kept on packing.

I left my hometown to go to university. I moved to Taipei and built a new life and career. Then I crossed time zones to Berlin chasing an endless degree, and now I was getting ready to fly to Toronto. Every time I moved, I always left behind so much-- not only my favourite books, but intangibles like the familiar tastes, the dear friendships, the celebrations with my family, and even a part of myself.

This time I was going to bring everything with me, including textbooks for the three different languages I learned, about 100 city mugs I collected from each place I visited, and, over 2000 postcards bearing the different addresses I lived. I was even going to bring this pair of shoes, hardened but still resilient.

My relationship with these blue shoes stretches back 10 years. I was first attracted by their distinctive design. There were silhouettes of ancient Roman legions surrounding the soles of the shoes, where I saw my ambition: I wanted to “go outside,” anywhere out of this tropical island. I was so determined, fearless, and without any hint of hesitation. I believed everything I owned was a cage, which prevented me from flying.

I did fly. The first time, second time, and the flying became endless.

I no longer felt the nervousness of take-off and landing that I used to have. When you flight over fifteen times in one year, you felt at ease with this narrow uncomfortable seat in the sky.

But “going outside” was lonely. I didn’t realize it when I was 25 years old. There was no one telling me that the embarrassment of not being able to express myself well in another language could burn down my passion. No one said that the fear of dying alone and undiscovered could nibble at my courage. No one talked about the loneliness I would feel when everyone I knew was celebrating New Year but I was still in the year behind. But it was there, and that loneliness wore out my strength.

Eventually, I realized that living and travelling alone in strange lands made me feel shell shocked. I started to seek a way to back to the society I came from. I didn’t get my wish. Instead, I met someone who led me to yet another country.

The fasten seatbelt indicator turns on again. I put the blue shoes on. Actually, I got three pairs of exactly the same shoes 10 years ago. I threw one pair out when I left Berlin and left another one behind when I sold my apartment in Taipei. This is the last pair. It witnesses my entire journey. And this might be the final destination.

I turn on my phone and see my husband’s message. My new family is at the airport and “see you soon!” I know there will be another complicated landing process here, to go through. I am ready for it.

Original for The Shoe Project. 2018年寫成，當時的英文還很中文。

關於我和The Shoe Project的愛恨糾葛可以讀這篇多倫多女性寫作團體。

上個月，The Shoe Project的主持作家寫了Email來給我，說她會在最新一期的移民女性寫作工作坊上朗讀我的文章，原來她也就是告知，而我不以為意，沒想到過了幾天後，她又寄了一封Email來，並且附上數張明信片的照片，全是這一期工作坊的成員寫給我的反饋，讓我內心相當感動。儘管再回校讀書後幾乎找不到時間再次參與The Shoe Project，但同期成員之間還是偶爾會相互關心，跨越時間的交流也時而有之，移民加拿大是我們共同的夢想、經驗、和未來，無論是淚中帶笑還是笑中帶淚，總是很高興有共鳴。

趁著Matters推出翻譯新功能，剛好可以分享。

下面是收到的反饋，紀錄一下。希望很快能夠讀到她們和她們鞋子的故事。