Friendship et al.

I am in love with my best friend. It is a tale as old as time, yes. And Jane Austen, bless her soul,was so on the point with how her novels portrayed the thin line between hate and love, between affection and infatuation, the blooming of something unexpected, nurtured by togetherness and time.

What we have is steeped in laughter and familiarity. Which is what I’ve always wanted all along. Something featherlight to counteract my melodramatic streak. Someone I can get silly with, to whom I’d be comfortable enough with that I could be like a child, plan evil schemes and laugh my worries away.

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I know I’m no longer a child, and I can be melancholic and a worrywart at times. The working life is so full of grown up issues that I am always in need of a balancing point, a rest for my senses. Well, there’s the tub, a half hour soak with a book clears the mind yes. And there’s a walk in the park which is something I do when I need a focused, long-drawn path to think and reflect.

But with days spent alone, I found that the best tension releasers are the random tete a tete with strangers. You learn little nuggets and it feels good and rewarding to touch base with people who are different from you, those whom you are likely to never see again.

Staying at a hotel ,of course, I get the the standard Hi, how are you? politess. But sometimes I get lucky and a chance to chat with someone interesting presents itself. Like the little stories of another hotel guest, someone from Mauritania (I think, or is it Mauritius?) which is somewhere in North Africa. How I learned that they are also so into the gas processing business. And kill me for being ignorant but I always imagined that place to be sort of backwards. But then he goes on to explain that though some parts of Africa are as poor as the magazines say, there are parts that are trying their very best to modernize and catch up with the rest of the wealthy nations. Which was why he was in KL, halfway round the globe. To train with this country’s flagship oil and gas company for a project in his native land.

And then just last night, while at the hotel’s business center, I found myself chatting with an Indonesian engineer who was in the same field as I am, he shared his experiences and I talked a little about my job. Being both engineers and always out of our home country we found a common ground. Being both alienated and at the same time excited by the everyday experiences of living in foreign lands. Ah but then he shared how he usually never stays put at a place for more than 3 years. And when I asked about his kids, he had this sad-happy uncertainty as he explains how his oldest, who was twelve, had to go to 3 different schools in different parts of Asia for his grade school. Aaaah, see this is the picture of a modern family in my field. I tell him the son is lucky to have been exposed to different cultures at such a young age, that chance to travel. He smiles and says he hopes that his son does get something out of these displacements.

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I wonder how it feels though to be that kid, to travel and be uprooted from familiar places at such an early age. To be helpless with the change. I bet he secretly blames his parents for his difficulties, that sense of being always a stranger for a child so young. Maybe he cultivates a fun, jolly personality to help him adjust better to new surroundings. Or maybe he becomes withdrawn, a loner drawn to the arts of isolation—reading, sketching and the internet. But someday I guess, when he’s pass the stage of helplessness. With a certain maturity he’ll look back and be thankful for such an experience. That openness that has become deeply rooted, that which has opened his horizons so early on in his life.

Which is how I feel sometimes. When I’m dragged down by the loneliness of being alone in this city. When home becomes such a glorious delusion. But that’s how most of us live. A routine of trade-offs and hopes. What is a few pang of loneliness when countered by the experience of living in a new place, the joy of learning, tasting, seeing all things new. The chance to earn good money and to add more zing to the resume. And because this will end soon, I think, a little patience is the only medicine to cure the blues. And friends.

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Which leads us to my version of the sisterhood of the travelling charms. It is something my mother taught me. To bring something small but important to you everywhere. I remember how when I first went abroad, to Yokohama, how she sneaked my dog-eared New Testament Bible into my luggage. And so I’ve come to bringing small things that remind me of the people I love wherever I go: a friendship bracelet from my college best friend, a pin/brooch from my closest Korean girl pal, cards from the boy friend and the same dog-eared bible from my mother.

They give me comfort, they bring out old memories and cheer me up. Recently, my oldest, closest friend in the world, someone I knew since high school, came to visit me from Singapore. Funny how we ended up buying the same style of swimsuit (it was on 60% sale). And so now we call them our friendship swimsuit. Others have their bracelets, or little trinkets, and we have our swimwear to remind us of gawd, 16 years of knowing each other. In the end, its always friendships and a fulfilling relationship that carry us through, not money, not fame, not any other form of success can make us soar.