To ¡MEXICO!: A Stranger and An Old Friend

Singapore, May 5, 2011

I zipped my luggage with some difficulties. As much as I swore to travel light, stuffing 20-day supply of necessities and an extra large duffel bag into a cabin-sized luggage was still a challenge. When I finally got it done, I was sweating like a chicken trapped in a Mexican standoff.

“Go go go!”, I told myself. “You don’t want to be late for this ultra important flight.”

And so I went, riding on a nondescript blue taxi while convincing myself that I did not leave anything important behind.

Everything was smooth so far. I checked in my luggage, I got on the plane, and 4 uneventful hours later, I arrived at Hong Kong International Airport (which name I could never remember).

Hong Kong, May 5, 2011

It turned out that my connecting flight to Los Angeles was in different terminal from the one brought me to the typhoon city. Cathay Pacific, proving itself a top class airline, assigned a gentleman to pick up all the passengers and lead them through some confusing escalators and a monorail ride, making sure they could find the right gate. That’s when I met Shan.

“Man… Without him, I would never find the gate,” he started the conversation. He talked to me because all other passengers were traveling in groups, save for a business class passenger who stuck himself to the Cathay Pacific officer all the time.

“Totally!” I replied, panting a little because all of them walked a little to fast for my short legs to keep up.

And that’s how Shan ceased being just another stranger.

He is a Srilankan born American. After spending more than 30 years in the US, he traveled alone to his birthplace for 5 weeks, reconnecting with old friends and living in the jungle where elephants bathe and fish are abundant. Now he’s on his way back to his home in LA, near Hollywood.

He asked me where I was going.

“Mexico.”

“Wow! Alone? That’s amazing!”

I was very grateful that he didn’t ask “Why???” like what other people always did when I told them my destination.

After that, we talked about many random things, from traveling, professions, hobbies, to family matters. Shan is a divorcee with one teenage daughter. Actually he wanted to bring his daughter along to Srilanka, but his ex-wife didn’t allow it. She suspected he would kidnap her and never return to the States.

“It’s ridiculous!” he snapped. “I grew up there, I went to college there, even my business is there! She would allow it if she could come along too, but I don’t want to bring her. I don’t care about her. I only want to be with my daughter.”

Then he went on sharing how he let his daughter choose what she wants to study.

Aha, a familiar subject. I told him I agreed with what he did. I myself was a victim. My parents didn’t let me choose anything but engineering, and see what happened. I didn’t do my best. And now I don’t work in engineering field. I dread it. What a waste. If only they allowed me to study psychology.

“They thought psychologists won’t be able to make good money…. Well, they’re wrong!” I said, without any bitterness. (It’s been too long.)

We talked and talked until we finally had to board the plane. He hugged me goodbye and told me not to hesitate to contact him when I visit LA. I thanked him. At that time, I remembered what my friend Aldy said. It’s funny how you’re never alone when traveling alone…

Hong Kong – Los Angeles, May 5, 2011

The flight was smooth, except for my usual breathing difficulty. I watched Black Swan and a documentary about, coincidentally, a Mexican festival. It was a bizarre event with massive papier mache of a cow and plenty of dangerous fireworks. They said it was an Easter celebration.

“You Mexicans are crazy, man… How does this have something to do with Jesus Christ?” the host exclaimed to his local guide.

Well, the cow was a representation of Judas or something. And they sort of got revenge on him by attacking him with fireworks. Really? Who cares. I think it’s just an excuse to have yet another celebration.

Tired of watching shows, I tried to write and read my guide books as much as I could. But this was proven unsuccessful. There were too many things in my mind. I was excited, nervous, ecstatic and scared at the same time. So I tried to sleep.

As they (or I?) say, sleeping is the best remedy for troubled hearts. After waking up to a breakfast and, few hours after, a lunch, I finally reached LAX.

Los Angeles, May 5, 2011

When I turned off my mobile phone’s airplane mode, I found a text message from my friend Cisca. She’s supposed to pick me up at LAX, then I’d spend one night at her place before flying to Mexico City. Being a superb planner with excellent time management, Cisca had been in the area even before I cleared immigration. I replied her, saying I had landed.

Nothing can beat the feeling of meeting an old friend. Although we hadn’t met for almost a year, it’s as if we never spent a day without talking to each other. When her car sped up on the wide LA road, I was so thankful I had a good friend to depend on in this other part of the world.

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