Unexpected Friends

I thought of the 8-hour budget-flight I was about to board. Eight long hours in the air. I wondered how I was going to spend it.

I found my seat near the back of the plane, in the middle aisle. On my left sat two Hispanic travellers, presumably a couple. The seat to my right was still unoccupied.

Just minutes before the plane was scheduled to depart, and just when I thought I was going to have two seats to myself, an old man wearing a silky short-sleeve shirt and a straw hat walked towards me hurriedly, panting, and asked me if the empty seat to my right was seat 40F. I nodded, and instinctively greeted him with a simple “how are you doing?”.

He looked at me, and said, “Sorry, what did you say?”.

I repeated myself.

He stared at me for a second, as if still waiting for my words to get into his brain for processing. Then laughingly he said, “Good, but you’d have to hold my hand while we take off!”. I didn’t know if he was joking or not.

Turned out he was joking.

As we were taking off, he asked if I was a local, and that was how our conversation – which would go on to last hours – started. Initially, we talked about Singapore, Malaysia, and Thailand, the three countries that he was planning to visit on his 29-day solo trip. We talked about how he could get from Singapore to Johore, how from Johore he could get to Butterworth and Georgetown, and how from Georgetown he could get to Bangkok. We also talked about some places to visit, and he told me stories of his travels around the world when he was young and fit – not that he wasn’t then, at 82 years of age.

He told me that the last time he had been to Singapore many decades ago, he travelled by water. He did not stay in Singapore for long, as his cruise was heading to the UK and Singapore was only one of the stopover points. In addition to Singapore, he stopped in Sri Lanka and Italy. He also told me how he spent months working and travelling in the US. He had gone from Canada, down to the East Coast, all the way to the West Coast. In the end, he was forced to leave the country because he had overstayed with an invalid visa.

Gradually, our conversation moved to Asian culture. Given that he knew I only came to Sydney a year and a half ago, he asked for my opinion on Western culture. I did not know what he wanted to hear, and I did not want to offend him, so I tactfully told him it was all right, that I could adapt just fine. Surprisingly, he started telling me how he felt the Western world is too materialistic, with most youngsters succumbing to consumerism and a false perception on the meaning of life. He went on to bash the Western culture of meeting up over alcohol, and how promoting binge drinking only led to detrimental mental and physical health. To make a comparison, he claimed that the Asian mentalities such as working hard, filial piety, and conservatism, was much more true to his approach to life – which was largely based on one of his favourite authors, Hugh MacKay.

Talking about culture, he mentioned how his elder son’s partner is Chinese, and while thinking about her, he smilingly claimed she was “An absolute pleasure!”. This led the conversation into the topic of family. He had two grown-up sons. Staring into the seat in front of him in contemplation with his deep blue eyes, he told me that seeing his boys grow up and enjoy each other’s company was the best thing he could have hoped for as a parent. And now, as a grandparent, he found great indulgence playing and buying gifts for his grandkids. Never did he once mention a wife, and I didn’t ask.

This went on for the first two or three hours. He talked while he ate too, and even offered me a can of coke, which I gratefully accepted. After lunch, he got tired and slept shortly after. In the last two or three hours before we landed, he woke up and we talked some more.  

What really intrigued me about this man is how much he had to share about his life. Sometimes, he would just stare at the back of the seat in front of him without saying anything, as if his mind was playing out all those nostalgic memories that he had shared. I am also inspired by his optimism, his passion for life and its meaning. He just had this cheerful aura around him. 

We landed in Changi half an hour late of the scheduled time. We got out of the plane and I led him to the immigration custom and baggage collection areas. Using my smartphone, I helped him find the nearest MRT station to get to his hotel. I also got him a brochure that had an MRT map in it from the brochure stand just outside the immigration custom.

We parted as I went to the taxi stand to catch a cab while he went on to the MRT station. We got someone to take a photo of us, and he beamed and explained to the generous stranger, “We became instant friends”.

It’s true what they say, that after high school in the real world, you make friends and learn from people of all ages.

I wish my oldest friend well.