One Rainy Christmas Eve

I wrote this around 1 year ago.. recollecting this event that happened during my internship year after graduating Medical Education. It is a writing to reflect my amusement in the nature of having meaningful conversations in unpredictable times... and as a reminder that everybody has a story worth listening.

One Rainy Christmas Eve

It started raining out and I needed to go to the hospital. I thought to myself, I will find a way to go to the hospital for my night shift by other means of transportation. It was weird that I was so relaxed about it, especially when the voice at the back at mind kept saying “it’s Christmas Eve. There was no way public transportation will be readily available”. But hey, I did not feel anything wrong about it at that time, but thought I might as well just walk the distance. It was only around 3km, and I have ran that distance before. 30 minutes after I thought that, it started raining. The rain did not waver, it became worse and remained that way for the rest of the night. 1 hour before my shift, I grabbed an umbrella, packed my equipment into my bag, wore a jacket, and started walking.

The road was dark, holy cow it was dark. Cars and motorcycles went by, so it wasn’t pitch black, but it was darker than the usual roads I walk. It didn’t help that the rain was combined with wind and splashes started to appear on my glasses. I walked about 500m and found a police station, I asked them whether they know a good way to find transport to the hospital, and they said I might find a public transportation over the road at the sidewalk. And so I walked the distance, and saw that there was no transportation whatsoever. Then I thought “yeah, it’s Christmas Eve dude, what do you expect”. So I continued walking. The road to the hospital, as I know it, went through a short hill. It was…interesting to think that I was hiking in the dark, in the rain, up a short paved hill, to reach a hospital. After that day I googled the distance I walked up to that hill was about 1.5km, on hindsight it was quite a stupid thing to do. Then I walked downhill and reached a well-lit roundabout. The rain was getting even heavier and I can feel my umbrella was starting to fail me as I can feel the cold creeping into legs. Then I did something that was logical at such a situation, I tried to find shelter and sat down nearby a man.

People tell me I am an outgoing person. I always take it as a compliment, but I never think that I was born outgoing. Often, I find it difficult to start a conversation. I had to think or several topics in my mind before I can start talking to someone, and sometimes, when possible, I think of the plausible conversation follow up or bridging to different topics. Yes, I am crazy that way, and so I did that thinking as I was walking to the bench on which the man was sitting. I saw the man was quite plump, aged around late 40s, wearing a civil-servant uniform. I said my favorite greeting and sat beside the man. He smiled and mentioned how bad the rain is. Weather is the most common conversation starter so I was quite comfortable with the beginning of this conversation. I continued by mentioning that I recently realized in this province, rain usually comes hard and quick, rarely it perseveres longer than an hour. The man agreed and added that indeed it is usually that way but sometimes such rains also happen.

Let me digress here a little. I actually honestly find discussing the weather is the stupidest thing anyone can do. First of all, we always say things like how nice the weather is, or how bad the weather is. Then we would comment how rare some kind of weather is, but sometimes it happens. Isn’t that just how everything in life is? I mean, sometimes things happen differently than the usual. They are called variations. Everything varies. Not too many things are the same all the time. And that’s why it is sometimes scary to live. There is no common pattern, or even if someone found it, it could still be broken in any given chance. But, then again, perhaps this unspoken agreement that weather can always change is why it’s the best conversation starter. The variety of the weather makes it easy for everyone to comment on and talk to each other. Safety in something that is surely to vary. Heh.

Then my mind started racing on how to bridge the conversation to further than weather, to perhaps, a local’s insight on the province. I mentioned that in my hometown, a rain like this would surely lead to flood, and thus the conversation changed to “oh, where are you originally from?” I like this question, because then I can first tell him where I am from and ask the same thing back, leading to my bridge to ask him how is life in this province, according to him. I answered a short one sentence answer and return the question immediately. This is because, I like listening to people. The more they talk, the more I can learn about the person and the more branches of conversations are made available. On the other hand, I also take a little pride on my ability to start up a conversation in which he would later disclose a lot of interesting stories.

He began to say how the province was still very backward compared to the capital. How the people there were more  temperamental (in which I comment, temperament is the same everywhere, but the actions are different. To which he laughed heartily). He then continued on to tell me about when he was younger, in which he was not educated very highly and was not very responsible. Later on he even continued to disclose how he was forced to have a family due to behavioral mistake.

When he made that statement, I was excited because, this is an interesting story. A story that I could surprisingly hear from a stranger, in a strange place, during Christmas Eve. I am not a big believer of coincidences, I believe that everything that happens, happen for a reason, and perhaps sometimes I will never know it, or  I will not know it at the moment, but it could always surface later. And so I risked a prodding question “so how did you manage to change?”. He explained that the realization of having to take care of someone was frightening at first, and it was difficult for him to start. But when he realized that his previous life was dangerous, he found on hindsight that he was thankful that he made the mistake at a younger age, when he was more “adaptable” he said. He told me a story when he was jailed and talked to the officers to how he was not directly involved and had to owe a lot of people money to be released. When he was released, he started begging for any jobs available. He mentioned he was lucky to find a wealthy police officer that allow him to work as a helper, later he learned official administration work and after some years found the courage to sign up as a civil servant. He said, after that, things started to look very bright for him.

That was until he had his children, 1 daughter and 1 son. He began a very serious tone with this topic and mentioned how he kept a very tight rein on his children. They are not allowed out at night, he monitored all their friends, especially the boys that were close to his daughter. He said, that every day he could not stop thinking about his mistake and would never want that to happen to his children. During this my mind raced about an article I read few years back, about how negative experiences are more memorable than positive ones. That article proved correct once again.

I then asked the next bridging question “how old are they now?”. To which he smiled and I saw his eyes glowed with genuine pride. His children both graduated from the university. The daughter from faculty of economics and the son from faculty of civil engineering. He then tried to sound not too prideful by adding that his son is still having difficulties finding a job because a lot of civil engineers that comes from outside the province is very difficult to work and/or compete with, but he’s enthusiastic about the prospects.

He then offered me a motorcycle ride to the hospital. After 15 minutes of conversation, filled of how his life was filled with much more turmoil than mine, he offered me a ride. Okay, let’s take a stepback a bit here. Actually, I did see he had a motorcycle, but seriously, riding with a stranger…kinda creepy! But everything seemed right. And, unless he was a very good psychopathic serial killer or something, he did just bare a lot of his life to me… bear in mind, in that moment I was the stranger to him. And so I prayed and hoped that this was just one of those times that my luck helps me. What some people call luck, some others call God’s blessing, or Divine Intervention, whichever it is you believe, this one felt like it was one of those things.

And so that is the story of how I hitched a ride on one rainy Christmas Eve to the hospital for my night shift. The man offered a lot of cliche stories of how life can change. How effort can lead to a better life. How having your own family changed your perspective towards life. But what I find interesting is… this story that I found cliche, truly shaped his life in a profound way. And I earned this story from a stranger through a conversation I personally had, which made it much more personal. I successfully learned a lot about living this life from a stranger that trusted me enough to give me a ride on his motorcycle.

Have you ever done such a thing? Have you ever learned a little bit of a stranger’s life in 15 minutes? I never had before. And now I have. That is exciting, well, at least for me.