Mommy Told Me Not to Talk to Strangers, But...

I am not the type who can talk easily to strangers. Some people said that I looked aloof and reserved, haughty and unapproachable. Yet there are several exceptions. Sometimes if I find the person interesting enough, I initiate the conversation. Or maybe he or she starts it, and somehow, the connection materializes out of thin air. I will write down one example.

Have you ever made a deep, meaningful conversation with someone you just met? Someone that doesn't speak the same language as you do? Well, I have.

I still remember the place. It's Plaza Singapura. As usual, my family and I decided to split up for an hour or so because we had different tastes. My father was into electronics. My mother was into supermarkets. My brothers were into many things--food, music, games. I was into books and souvenirs, of course. We promised to meet somewhere in the basement, where they had many food stalls. So we could eat while we were waiting.

I got there first. No sign of my family yet. So I bought roasted chestnuts and waited on a bench on the corner. There was a faded Chinese lady near me. She was thin and perhaps, old enough to be my great-grandmother. She seemed to be waiting for someone. I smiled and offered her my chestnuts. She shook her head emphatically, saying things in Chinese. Somehow I understood. Then she offered me something from her bag, some kind of sweets. I smiled and refused.

Then she talked. Oh, my, how she talked! She seemed to pour her hearts into me. That time the only expression I remembered was the one told by my father. He learned it while he was a child in Peking (now Beijing). Chi cai lai la wo pu pa (something resembling that). The car is coming and I'm not afraid. Somehow that didn't seem appropriate, so I just replied in English. She didn't seem to mind. It seemed to encourage her. She just talked and wailed in Chinese.

I didn't understand her language, yet I understood enough. She was a heartbroken, lonely lady. She just wanted to be heard. So I listened. At times I nodded. I sympathized with her. Several minutes passed. We ate the sweets and chestnuts together. After a while she seemed satisfied. She looked at me with tears in her eyes, smiling. Then she shook my hand and left.

At that moment my parents appeared. They asked me who the Chinese lady was. "You two looked like you've known each other for a long time," my father said. I told them I had just met her. And that we talked and shared many things in both Chinese and English. "But you don't understand Chinese!" my parents said. I smiled and told them that at that time, it didn't matter.