THE RAINFALL (3)

His right hand holds a tumbler full of black Toraja coffee. In front of him, the second men – the younger – sits on a chair made of wooden pallet. The smoke of their cigarettes full the air along with a story comes from a highland in Papua New Guinea.

“It was only me and the pilot in the chopper. The pilot did the maneuvers many times extremely, showing the fantastic mountain scenery you can only see in movies,” says the older enthusiastically then sips his coffee deeply. His eyes indicate excitement.

“That must be your favorite one among the entire rigs you’d ever been.”

The older takes a couple of seconds to finally nod, agreeing the younger conclusion. “For three and a half months, I live only by bread and salad. Every single day. I was the only Moslem back there and all the meats are non halal, so I had no options,”

“How did you survive?”

“It was hard. But here I am. Safe and sound.”

The younger takes another cigarette. The story seems to be getting more interesting.

“We were surrounded by local guy with guns,” adds the older.

“How does it feel?” the younger moves his body a little bit closer.

“I was scared,” answers the older without any doubt. “But the experience of being in such occasion would never be traded with anything. It taught me a lot to overcome my own fear and to be more humble.”

“So, for you now, the problems in life, the common things, are just like piece of cake or something?”

“It’s not that simple but yeah… kind of,” the older moves his hands around, trying to elaborate but couldn’t find one.

“Are you not afraid of death?”

“Oh, man! People can die anytime, anywhere. It will eventually come to all of us. The thing is are we ready or not?”

“Are you?”

The older puts a smile on his face then gazes on the younger. “I am.”

“In life, I only want three things: a family, a car, and a house,” the older continues. “I have it all already and that’s enough for me. I don’t fancy a Ferrari even though I can afford it. All my kids are covered by insurance so whenever death comes to me, Insya Allah I’m ready.”

The younger takes the tumbler from the elder’s right hand then sips the content. It is not every day you can meet somebody to share many things with, including coffee, in this kind of job. Most people tend to cover their own asses and mind their own business so there’s not much room for friendship. But nice person always exist everywhere. The universe is always fair.

The story carries on, brings the two of them back to the past years when they were still on the rig site, digging the earth for the sake of hydrocarbon. Far away from their beloved ones for a better life. They never went to the same rigs but the story, the experience remains the same. Everlasting, worth to be memorized and shared to the right person.

The black clouds start to cover the sky above them and the rain suddenly pours out heavily.

*originally written in Balikpapan, 22 Mar 2016