As it Happens
Exiled
Chapter Tags: OC MF Minor2
All morning I tried, fingers punching redial like a maniac—most times she answers within seconds. The old Motorola I gave her the Sunday Ting disappeared was off, or in airplane mode. Throwing caution aside, I called her regular phone—again, no answer. Something was wrong, and I started to shit myself.
Even though we had been careful with technology, a single mistake can incriminate. The three months of protests in Hong Kong now felt personal. Friends there kept me informed; outraged at ludicrous property prices and the city’s role as a money laundry for rich Chinese mainlanders, young people of every stripe took to the streets and fought ‘police’, many of them PLA soldiers in disguise. I assumed the worst; was Song Fan implicated?
At 2 p.m. Song Fan called me on WhatsApp using her VPN. It’s blocked in China but still encrypted. She spoke slowly, in both Chinese and English to make sure I understood. The laboured explanation made me suspicious. Was this a trick? A forced confession thing? Without a choice, I listened but a tremor in her voice put me on edge. “You okay, Song Fan?” “I’m good Matt, but please, I need to explain.”
Police, a man and woman, called early that morning. She was to dress and go with them, but first she must surrender her phones, there and then—they already knew she used two numbers but only the Motorola interested them. That went into a bag, sealed, labelled and signed before she rode to the Police HQ, Ministry of Public Security, Intelligence Division.
After an hour, they forced her to unlock her phone under three cameras in a special room. They asked ‘Why no messages or calls with the foreign teacher? How much do you pay him? Did you ever discuss Australia?’
Song Fan explained why, she took two
So an innocent young girl told credible stories which they believed. They returned her phones, and she switched both to flight, before I called.
Song Fan bought time but they would be back, today, tonight, tomorrow—who knew? Only when she deleted my contact detail and calls from both phones, she called.
Concerned with her safety, I told her to destroy the Motorola and reinstall Windows on her laptop, but she was way ahead and planned to pass them to Ju-Long ‘he will do anything for me’.
“Matt, stop. This isn’t about me. Listen to me and don’t argue. It’s you they want. Ting’s father is a fugitive, he got away and they must punish someone. You’re the obvious link, they’ll say you set this up; that Ting escaped with the help of the foreigner, you know how it goes. No way will you get a fair trial, they rock 99% convictions. Nowhere is safe, not even Hong Kong—and look at what’s happening there. Politics comes first, always, and foreigners are not flavour of the month in China. You must leave. Get out, right now.”
The words struck me in the chest and my mouth dried. Although she was right, I began to panic. “Fuck, where?”
“We’re out of time, Matt. They’ll notify the airports, you’ll be no fly. Take the ferry to Kinmen, you might just make that. Call me when you’re safe.”
“Song Fan?”
“What?”
“I love you.”
“Matt, please go. Now.”
Through a fog of disappointment, rage and affection and swearing to myself, I packed what I could carry into an ancient backpack, hailed a taxi in the street and bought unreserved tickets from a tired clerk at the cash window. As I sank into the greasy, stained seat, I became worried and angry. Inside thirty minutes, I had upended a life. The engines started, and crew threw frayed ropes onto the deck. I waved China goodbye through a salt-encrusted ferry window.
Kinmen Island is part of Taiwan, but close to China, less than 10km across a narrow strait from Xiamen. The tiny place, littered with bunkers and tunnels, remains an anachronism from 1949 when the defeated Nationalists under Chiang Kai Shek fled Mao’s communists to Taiwan.
For me, too, this was a sanctuary. Seventy years ago, I wondered, did the Generalissimo feel this worried? Now, sitting in a cafe contemplating my new life in exile, around me—well, the place looked okay. Familiar, yet not, the fit of a new coat in the same style. The language is the same, but democracy, instead of military dictatorship, has a different vibe. Gone is the edginess, the watching, the censorship. The old TV in the corner, flickering with a weak signal, covers an upcoming presidential election instead of Beijing propaganda. The couple on the next table discuss the latest candidate. A suit on a phone talks Trump’s China sanctions and the factory relocation back the island. A layer of fear peeled away.
I’ll be able to teach in Taiwan and when this trumped-up shit blows over, Song Fan is my top priority. With a pre-paid SIM, I thumbed her WeChat.
“I made it.”
“Thank god.”
“Gonna miss you.”
“It’s been wild, Matt but I’m so relieved. There’s so much we haven’t talked through. Like the road China is going. Can we be together, soon?”
“We’ll find a way, baby. Perhaps this is fate.”
“I love you, Matt. The words scared me, but when I saw your devotion to her, that did for me. With you there, it’s kinda easier to say.”
I’m writing this on an English teacher friend’s sofa in Taichung, Taiwan’s second city; where I sleep for now. The backpack sits propped in a corner, a pizza box on the floor—twenty-one again.
Cindy’s taken in two students who escaped the Chinese-stoked police violence in Hong Kong. One of them has an injury from a rubber bullet and burns from tear gas but he is getting help from sympathetic medics, even without a health card. We share the costs of keeping them here, the least I can do after their bravery and her kindness.
I am at peace with myself over Ting but I’m still anxious. Australia did not ratify the extradition treaty with China in 2007 but that doesn’t mean they are safe. They have so many bad actors overseas that blindly follow the CCP line. Right now I can only respect her request to be alone. Song Fan will contact her, I am certain; she is a determined girl.
The Epstein fallout is still in the news which disturbs me, so I keep my relationship with Song Fan private. She will turn sixteen later this autumn but I want her to visit as soon as I rent a place and secure a teaching position—I miss her. Long-distance relationships are painful.
Taiwan has been wonderful to me. Everywhere I go, people give me advice, point me in the right direction or show me local life-tips. So, looks like I’m a fixture here for a few years but my girls have changed me. I’m feeling middle-aged, needy and vulnerable—I want a partner, a soul mate.
So, I have decided; I will ask Song Fan to marry me. If her
This is an end and a beginning, so no more updates. It’s been a wild ride but I hope you enjoyed coming along—now I need to be alone to reset my life. Wish me luck.
Matt, Taichung, Taiwan. October 2019.