The Girl on the Bus

 The Girl on the Bus

The ramshackle bus set off from Tamsui bus-station at 11.30 (or shortly before!). I, an obvious foreigner in his early sixties, had a good window seat on the left side of the bus. A considerable number of people got on at the next stop, and a local girl in her mid-twenties came and sat by me. 

I looked out seaward at the passing view, with my chin in my hand. We swayed against each other occasionally but it did not seem to matter; we had room enough; it was only momentarily. 

After 20 minutes the girl started to fish for something in her bag, and eventually brought out a little bookmark, or 'favour', made out of a dried leaf-skeleton decorated with bright yellow straw flowers, green leaves and a tiny blue butterfly. And she offered it to me. I have it still, twenty years on, as a bookmark in my travel diary.

I am sure that my face must have fully expressed my surprise, gratitude, and discomfort. She said it was Chinese. "Very!" I agreed. We got to talking, occasionally, and carefully. I was going to Shimen. I would arrive at about 12.25, she thought. She was going to Sanzhi. "I am meeting someone; I have a 'date'". 

"Really?", I asked, and again I think my face must have shown my surprise and pleasure; but not perhaps their cause, for I was surprised and charmed by her trusting directness. But I also beamed my happiness for her and my best wishes. 

Heaven!