The Unsettling Truth.I started work at 5pm today, and took charge of the 'smoking area' of Highlander. Inside the bar itself, there was a function going on, and almost everyone was inside helping out. So it was only Hidayah and me outside. At table 215, there was an american guest, a man probably in his early 50s, consuming a whole bottle of Barcardi rum and coke.
This man, impacted me greatly today.
When I first headed outside, he was already three quarters done with his bottle. He was already intoxicated, and he knew it too. But he wasn't a typical trouble-maker. He just had a lot of troubles.
He raised his hands gesturing towards me. I went over and asked how I may help. With one palm on his chest, he said "I think I'm going to die, you must help me". I didn't know what to think. Anyway, following this, he made me take out 2 huge Nectarie Dessert boxes and a couple of American newspapers out of his humongous knapsack just to recover a sthetoscope.
A fucking sthetoscope.
Can you believe it? But the mystery was solved when he told me he was a rescue diver working in the US Marines. He said he hasn't eaten or consumed anything else but cigarettes and alcohol the past two days. I looked at his piercing blue eyes and saw overwhelming sadness and unspoken hopes.
Looking and talking to him was like watching a wonderfully made tear-jerker.
He told me he only had 7 hours left on land(on Singaporean land), he has to leave by midnight back to his ship and on it he will stay for a minimum of a couple of years. No less. I asked him how long does he have to stay aboard once he gets on the ship.
It's a whopping four years!
Four fucking long years with only water surrounding you. And your loved ones are left behind, somewhere, thinking about your safety, and you theirs. But that's as close as you can get to being with them. You learn to love your memories, you learn to cherish your time on land so much that each second you have your feet on soil is precious. It's so hard.
I don't know but I felt his pain. To put it bluntly, he was drowning himself in rum to become numb to his circumstances. Only sad thing is, he is still aware no matter how much he swallowed. It was painful to watch him, it was painful to know what he was going through. I wouldn't have cried more if I witnessed a cancer patient writhing in discomfort.
Heart wrenching sob-story.
The whole day/night, between trips to the toilet, he counted on his fingers the hours he got left. He kept wanting to talk to me and I kept wanting to listen. He was such an amazing person and I had so much respect for him. He told me he used to date many girls at once when he was younger. He told me he had everything. But he kept repeating "Now, one girl. Now, only one girl." And this girl's photo was hung on a small plastic folder round his neck together with his Navy/Marines identification pass and other legal identification cards. I know because I saw it. I asked him, "where is she now?". He just shook his head and teared. He was already tearing when he was telling me about how he can only touch land twice in four years. It was an incredible story to tell and an even more incredible story to live.
One other unusual thing that he did was that everytime he asked me to bring him more ice or another glass or help him to outide the toilet, he would thrust money in my hands and insist I keep his tips. I said "no sir, I can't take your money. This is my job." And he replied, "Take it. I used to be a bartender. People gave me alot of cash. You deserve it. Take it. It's yours."
So I did.
I don't know why but I was a little affected by his tales the entire night. Everytime I think back to the things he told me, and the way he acted, and the blatant misery in his eyes, I become sadder. His heart can never be cold, he has been doing this for years, he said, but he still longs to live normally and be with his loved ones. He still has so much hope, but so little capacity for its fulfilment. I pray to God, he can be happier. I really wish he can find joy in his life once again. He told me that he loves to sky-dive and dive. He even showed us the tattoos of a parachute and a diver on his left chest. He said this is what he loves to do. It's just that the nature of the US military requires too much of any human being. I asked him why don't he quit.
He can't. You can't just quit the American military force. Once you commit, it's your life. You've sold your soul already. He sold his, and now, trying to be drunk and numb on land is the most
comforting thing that he can do.
If I could, I want to talk to this man again. Hopefully when he is sober. I want to know. I want to listen. It's inspiring and touching.
-
Whatever your name is, I don't know but I have chronicled the above in remembrance of you. And in return, I snuck into your knapsack a Highlander coaster with well-wishes written behind, just to let you know I understand. I hope you will be empowered with the freedom to do what you like and not have any regrets. I hope you will be happier.
