Stretching just beyond the shadow of Taipei 101, the Taipei Medical University Hospital operates as it does each and every day. You’ll find all the sounds you might normally associate with at a hospital: the soft but high-pitched drone of ventilation systems working overtime, the labored breathing, coughing, sneezing, and the distant voices, bells, and alarms, echoing through sterile, shimmering halls. One sound, however, has resonated with me since I left. Wedged in between an escalator and the main entrance was a naturally illuminated grand piano, with a young volunteer casually releasing melody after melody into the open air. Believe me, the suffocating Taiwanese humidity made it warm in there, but what this piano player brought was warmth. Victor Hugo once wrote, “Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.” It’s an inspiring thing to so easily see someone else’s own mode of aide, listening to her speak volumes on shared pain and suffering, through the notes, emanating halfway around the globe. It was beautiful.
Cheers, and welcome back to modeofaide.
-Photo taken by Andrew.