Conversation with a stranger

Silom Road, one of the most iconic places in Bangkok, Thailand

I thought scenes like this only happen in movies. 

You enter a coffee shop. You saw that it was almost full and there’s no more available table for you. There was a vacant seat in a corner but in a table already occupied by a guy sitting alone. You approached him. You asked if you can share the table with him. He smiled and said yes. You introduced yourselves to one another. And thus began hours of conversation with a stranger in the middle of a strange city. 

I was in Thailand again for the annual Songkran. Exhausted after almost a week of partying and drinking, and just revelling around, I decided to just slow down and relax. It was our last day in the city and I’m no longer in the mood to wander around unlike my friends. Besides, a fellow traveler I met in our hostel gave me a fantastic book (I’ll probably blog about it soon) so I thought it would be perfect to just find a nice cafe to just chill and read. 

Or so I thought. Because then came James. 

He’s from the US and he’s touring Southeast Asia after quitting his job in the financial world. His eyes are green. He sports a tribal tattoo on his chest, which were barely peaking from the lose gray shirt he was wearing. I think he stands around 6’1” or 2. He has this laugh which sounds so innocent, almost child-like — warm, airy, and giggly. Simply put, he's handsome — handsome enough to catch the attention of ladies and even the guys around him. 

But what impressed me a lot was how our conversation went. 

We practically talked about everything — from politics in our respective countries to pop culture, from trade wars to to various international cuisines, and of course, traveling. 

Like any American I’d meet, I tried talking about NBA, but I was surprised to find out that he was not much into it. He said he would cheer for his hometown’s team from time to time but he doesn’t follow the league regularly. 

But he loves motorcycles. He loves it a lot even though he almost died once due to a freak accident that he spent months in a hospital thinking he wouldn't make it. But thank God he did. 

I listened to him talked about motorcycles and how he loves going around places riding it. He showed me photos of those impressive, smokin-hot big bikes. In my mind I thought if I attempt to ride them, I don't think I can even kickstart those breezers because they're too huge for my poor, lanky Asian bodyframe.

I talked to him about my job — the glamorous and the gruesome aspects of it all. Told him a lot about Cambodia because I just went there last year and it's his next destination after Thailand. He quizzed me a lot about Asian culture. 

We didn't notice how time flew fast. Customers came and left and we were still in the same corner, talking about practically everything. Just hours ago, we were total strangers. But there we were, talking about even the most personal things in our lives.

I was deeply touched when he recounted to me a recent tragedy he experienced and how it brought a sharp turn in his life. 

“When you lose all your possessions like that in a snap and you see how people around you experience the same, it will change you in ways you can’t imagine,” I remember him telling me. 

He looked at me straight in the eyes while he was telling me that. And I was in awe. 

I became a writer because I believe in the power of stories. And there, in my conversation with James, I learned and experienced the awesome power of stories in connecting people, even to strangers who just met. Homo narrans, human narrators, aren't we called?

At around dusk, my friends arrived and I introduced them to James. We talked for a bit more. Shared some drinks. Shared more laughs. Shared more anecdotes.

We learned that he has a girlfriend (and a gorgeous one at that) and that sadly, Philippines was not yet on his list of countries to visit. But I think my friends and I did a pretty good job of “selling”the country’s amazing travel spots that he promised to come next time and that hopefully we can show him and his friends around. It was getting late and so we had to say our goodbyes. 

As I waved to him from outside the cafe, I realized this has been a recurring theme of my travels: meeting strangers and exchanging stories. There is something about traveling and meeting strangers that create this peculiar zone where artifices were stripped, inhibitions were thrown, allowing a simple exchange of "hi" and "hello" to people you wouldn't normally give a second thought walking down your usual roads. And it changes you. It brings you to places in your mind you've never been before. 

Driving our way to the airport, seeing the fast blur of lights and colors through the car’s window, I was imagining this web of threads made up of words, of stories, and how it connect us all. That they’re just there somewhere, floating in this vast, crazy-mad world waiting to be tapped and crossed.