Climbing and Playing Drums on Battleship Rock: The Dreams of Four Women in Wheelchair Ive never heard of Battleship Rock until Lucy messaged me on June 22nd, telling me that some of her friends are putting together a volunteer group to bring four disabled people up the mountain, and asked if I would like to join them. Lucy, a fellow wheelchair-user whom I got to know from playing boccia, said theyre looking for people with disabilities who are not too heavy, so the first person she thought of was me. I said let me look it up. A week later, a group conversation board was started on Facebook, and details began to trickle. The idea had been simple: Lucy was talking to Da-li, a member of a taiko drums club, about how shed seen his posts about the clubs performance on top of Battleship Rock, and she wanted to see them play. Da-li, who runs a shop selling assistive devices, said sure--well find a way to carry you up the mountain. But he had a better idea. Instead of just watching us play, he said, join us. Three weeks later, on a sweltering Saturday afternoon, we, the group of four ladies in wheelchairs, met in a hotpot restaurant with Da-li and his family. None of us knew one another except for Lucy, who had put together this group of women. True to her word, the women in wheelchairs are all petite. But our disabilities were unique and we came from vastly different backgrounds: married with kids, single, unemployed, Christian, Buddhist. Even where we lived was unusually scattered: it was like calling us from the four corners of Taipei. Da-li brought a drum set to the restaurant to let us have a go at it. We took turns playing with the taiko drum, and discussed what was going to happen: we would practice during the summer, and then, at the start of autumn--when we would have learnt the routine and a volunteer team would be put together--we will scale Battleship Rock. The learning process was pretty straightforward: we met every Thursday night outside Yuanshan Park and Da-li would lead the practice. It was an open space beside the MRT station where residents would go to practice dancing or ride a bike. As we practiced, passersby would stop to watch and applaud us when we finished each round. One time the driver of the accessible van who was going to pick me up at 9:30pm arrived early at the park and wandered towards the sound of the drums. Imagine his surprise when he found me playing among my new friends. When we met the drums club at their weekly practice session for the first time on September 1st, we were taken aback by how deafening it was to have a dozen taiko drums going full-on in a basement rehearsal room. We had pretty much learnt the routine by then but were still astounded by the thoroughness of the long-time drummers. It was a strange combination of fascination, self-doubt, and determination--this was really coming together and wed better up our game. As summer vacation was now over and Da-li could no longer manage to bring five sets of drums without the help of his son, we stopped our group practice and waited for our big day. All that was left was for Da-li to round up his volunteers and make the final arrangements. A group t-shirt was designed and printed within days: the front said An Ascent Built on Dreams while the back read Just Believe, together with the initials of us women along with Da-li and his son. September 28th, Sunday. 1:30pm. The big day finally arrived. We met in front of the coffee shop in Yangming Medical University where the trail to Battleship Rock begins. It was a stuffy, windless afternoon. Our group of drummers and volunteers came to include well over 50 people. All around there was a cheerful atmosphere--this seemed normal considering were all going on a hike. But on closer inspection, much detailed preparation was in place. There was a nurse on standby, two vans with wheelchairs and various assistive devices, and people gathered into small groups as a roster was read out, assigning volunteers to each of the four women in wheelchair. Walkie talkies were constantly coming alive with statics. Each person introduced themselves, and then the group headed to a staircase nearby to do a short practice. Lucy, Enya, and Kuojie were all carried on the back by the volunteers while I was carried in my wheelchair. When the chair was lifted into the air I nearly screamed. They moved up a flight of maybe 20 stairs. They asked if I was alright. Totally fine, I said, Not uncomfortable by any means, just very very scary to be carried up and down like that. Just believe was truly our motto. The trail up to Battleship Rock began at about 2:30pm, and out of the four of us ladies, mine was the most difficult. Seven men were assigned to carry me and during practice they worked out that the best way would be to have four carry the chair at any one time. They would switch places throughout the trail so we could keep moving without resting. Just walking from the coffee shop uphill to the start of the trail was strenuous. I could tell this wasnt going to be easy when my group started chatting and the guy pushing me told his friend to talk to me--because he couldnt talk and push at the same time! We reached the entrance of the Battleship Rock trail and at a 1-2-3, we were off. Even if I tried to describe it to you, I wouldnt be able to do justice to just how tiring it was for the guys to carry me up the trail. It is estimated there are between 300 to 400 steps along the trail. A healthy person could reach the top within 20 minutes, but not for us. They asked me how much I weighed and I said not quite 30kg--that sounded alright, until climbing got underway and we found out how grueling it was even with four person sharing the load. The wheelchair team was the first to set off but we were soon overtaken by the other three teams. By the end of the climb, the guys were switching places every minute or less. Sweat poured like rain and everyone was out of breath. Reaching the summit was exhilarating. The peak was indeed a piece of rock made of sandstone, polished by the wind yet uneven on the surface with waves and curls, all in a shade of pale yellow. If you turned east from where you came up, it gave you an unobstructed view of the Taipei city below. The drop is not a cliff per se, but there are no rails, so I imagine you could just roll off into oblivion should you lose your footing on the edge of the rock. What struck us most, though, was the drummers, who had reached the peak before us and set up the drums. Taiko drums originated from Japan and it seemed a fitting instrument to play on top of a hill, monotonous yet powerful, an instrument that emanated an absolute sense of dedication and purpose. After the tiresome climb, the music seemed to applaud our efforts. It was finally our turn to play. I remember how surreal it felt when our drum sets were set up and everything quieted down: two months of preparation, an involvement of over 50 people, and this was going to end in less than 4 minutes. When the leading drummer started the routine, my heart began pounding so fast that all I could do was control my breathing and try to think ahead on my next beat. If I had been short on oxygen before, my head was now clear and focused. Nothing was going to distract me and make me mess up. We got to the last strike and a cheer erupted. It was such a relief and yet also a deep sense of achievement. To many, the event was so out of the blue that it was unlike anything we would experience in our everyday life--it started, it happened, and then it ended. We had barely gotten to know each others names! But when we finished our performance, it felt as if weve made history together. It may have been just a trivial little activity called hiking and playing drums. It may be that we would never get together again. But what we did today, at this place, would stay in our memories for years to come. It would be an inspiration and a comfort--a reminder to all of us that love is an action, and that there are people in this world who give without expecting anything in return. If theres anything I learnt from this, it is that I am ready to give, and also receive. There is so much self-doubt and even guilt when we are told to freely receive. We think we are not worthy of such an effort, that we must do something to balance it out. But in climbing the hill and playing the drums, I think we all came to the conclusion that sometimes you just have to enjoy whatever youre given and run with it, because we brighten each others lives when were all truly happy and appreciative of this thing called life. It doesnt really matter if were the giver or the taker. We can all come together and do our part. Going down the hill took much shorter than the climb uphill, and the group dispersed in maybe half an hour or less. When we said goodbye it felt like the end of a journey, but I spied, too, the beginning of new adventures in each of our lives. It was special, exhausting, memorable, and fun. And I felt sure it would change many peoples lives, as its undoubtedly changed mine.
Posted on: Mon, 06 Oct 2014 06:01:48 +0000